Carrion
by loganes
Summary: In light of the Great Prophecy, the gods are at war and man's existence is threatened. Percy must decide whether to take the right path or the easy one, and finds that in the end, everyone has a debt to pay. Percy/Annabeth
1. Divergence

**Author's Note: **So... pretend that _The Lost Hero_ does not exist. I started this before that came out. It's my own take on what happens concerning Rachel Dare's prophecy. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **All the creativity behind Percy Jackson and his story can be attributed to Rick Riordan. I do not take credit for the characters and anything found in Riordan's books.

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**Carrion**

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Chapter I - Divergence

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_Blinding light gave way to reality, and with one glance at the scene before him, Percy ran, Riptide in hand, knowing that his only chance of living would be to _get the fuck out. _That one blow to his head had nearly knocked him unconscious, but thankfully, his sight had come back and with that, the realization that he was screwed, big time._

_The gods had been at war for almost a year now, but demi-gods like himself had abstained from action until recently. Rachel's first prophecy seemed to be coming true, although it had taken several years: _

_Seven half-bloods shall answer the call.  
To storm or fire, the world must fall.  
An oath to keep with a final breath,  
And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death._

_Percy had yet to figure out who the seven half-bloods were, but it figured that he would end up one of them. This kind of shit just seemed to happen; in any case, not for one moment had he even hoped for some peace after the end of the last war. The rest of the details were also ambiguous, but the full-fledged god war was fairly indicative that the prophecy was well upon them._

_While Olympus had remained peaceful for some time, naturally the gods grew restless. Ares, ever-hungry for war and power, had set things off, but it seemed inevitable that the peace time would not last in a place filled with such conflicting authority and ego. What was worse was that the war was now more destructive than god wars had been in the past; each god aimed for total control of Olympus. Gone were the days of a content—albeit at times unfriendly—acquiescence. Years had passed, the gods changed, sides shifted, and remnants of battles were apparent across the earth itself._

_Until recently, Poseidon had been doing well—in fact, most of the gods had been holding their own, and the war seemed to be at a sort-of stalemate. Fragile alliances had been made, as always, but they were prone to tremble and shatter at a moment's notice should one side seem to falter. In one drastic turn of events, Ares had managed to capture Poseidon, and the war grew uglier still._

_Percy wouldn't have it. The demi-gods, out of a certain sense of self-preservation, had at first opted to stay out, thinking the conflict would eventually resolve itself, and with the deadlock between powers, it seemed as though the only option would be to return to a mutual dislike and a mutual rule. Poseidon's capture changed everything. The gods saw that they could, in fact, overpower each other, and this brought everything and everyone—including the demi-gods—into question concerning their own fates._

_In retrospect, charging Ares' prison—Alcatraz—that happened to be guarded by various creatures that could tear him to shreds had not been the smartest idea, but Percy was never one to sit back and watch while someone he cared about was in harm's way. However, the recklessness, this time, had been lacking of all rationality, and now Percy could acknowledge that this would cause more damage than good._

_Hindsight wasn't always a good thing when you didn't have foresight to begin with._

_Usually, he relied on Annabeth to be the rational one, but she wasn't around and there just wasn't _time.

_Percy yelled and dodged as several poisoned arrows came hurtling towards him. He felt them whistle past him, one narrowly missing his ear. Thankfully, the fact that Alcatraz was located on an island was of no hindrance; being the son of Poseidon, Percy could dive right in and be out of there._

_There remained the small problem of actually _reaching_ the water, of course._

_In all his past fights, Percy was sure he'd never run so hard. Droplets of sweat slid down the sides of his tanned face from his forehead, his muscles searing with a burning exhaustion that he struggled to ignore as the water grew closer, closer still, _I just need to get there…

…_sweet, chilled relief as he crashed into the waves, gasping underneath the surf to catch his breath. The perks of being Poseidon's son seemed never-ending, and, mercifully, Ares did not control any underwater animals, so he was safe for the time being._

_After swimming a good distance from the small, rocky island, Percy sunk to the ocean floor._

_Poseidon was dead._

_Percy didn't know how it had happened, or when, or _why_, but the sea-god was no longer a living, breathing, immortal soul. He'd been destroyed, something Percy had thought impossible for his father, a _god._ Apparently, it was possible. When he'd arrived at his father's cell, the body was cold, lifeless, un-breathing, and no matter how Percy shouted and prodded, drawing the attention of all inside to his intruding presence, the god of the seas gave no movement or acknowledgement. There had not been a heartbeat._

_The weight of what he'd just witnessed came crashing down against Percy all at once, the way the waves would not, and when he cried out there was no sound._

_Underwater, the silence was deafening._

_As he shook¸ Percy wrapped his arms around himself as if to hold himself together. He'd lost the father he'd only just gotten to know a few years ago; 19 was too young to lose a father, especially one he'd believed would always be there. And what could he do now about the war? With Poseidon gone, there was no one on his side…he was a mere half-blood, with no real power against anything the gods possessed._

Alone._ Honestly, Percy had never felt its existence so utterly until this moment. It choked him, his throat constricting around the two syllables until he felt like he was suffocating in his own element. Maybe he would. Maybe it wouldn't even matter. In the scheme of things, there was no difference that he could truly make. His youth had been full of assistance and luck, but he no longer held such liberties at his disposal._

_As if a testament to the god's death, the entire sea shuddered once with Percy, and the emptiness became massive and oppressing at once. Percy knew he had to get out of there, had to _forget_, if only for a little while._

_Shore approached fast as Percy swam with all speed towards it, his mind blank except for the simple desire to flee._

_He might not be 21 yet, but his fake I.D. was intact and rather legitimate looking, and from his perspective, a nice hard drink was all Percy had to look forward to for the rest of his life._

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Percy Jackson stumbled into the alleyway, clutching his side desperately to stop the blood that continued to flow through his fingers and out of his body. Thankfully he'd gotten away; ever since his attempted Alcatraz break-in, Ares' minions had been hunting him ceaselessly, and it had taken its toll, although in his opinion, attacking him at a _bar_, while he was _drunk_, was low. No matter; he was certainly sober now.

"…fuck," he muttered under his breath, pain stabbing across his abdomen with each dragging step. He knew he was good in a fight, especially after so many years of toning and training, but twenty of Ares' personal—and undead—soldiers was a bit much to take on by himself, and he recognized how goddamn lucky he was that he was, at least, _fast_.

Confident that he'd gotten rid of the majority and wounded the rest, Percy allowed himself to relax more as the distance between himself and where he'd left the soldiers grew, although these days he was always on his guard, even in sleep. Forced to move out of his apartment, he lived nomadically, squatting in various empty houses or even in enclosed, abandoned doorways. While forgoing a single place to live had been difficult at first, all of his money remained in the bank, so he was never short on food or necessities, and was saving money as he no longer had a rent to pay. Simple pleasures, he decided, and he'd take what he could get.

However, tough times fell upon all—humans, half-bloods, and gods alike. Unexplained weather turbulences had resulted in high-scale earthquakes, widespread forest fires, avalanches, dangerous thunderstorms, and while Poseidon still lived, tsunamis. The majority of people's coastal homes, both in the east and west, had been destroyed, entire villages had been wiped out by earthquakes in California and further south than America, forest fires ate away at ecosystems across North America, and Switzerland was all but covered in snow. Despite all of the "natural" wreckage, New York City had still received the brunt of it all, although the Empire State Building had—miraculously—avoided any damage at all.

Many humans regarded the devastating events as a sign of the apocalypse, and even from Percy's somewhat biased perspective, he could at least visualize how much more terrifying all of what had happened would appear to someone lacking any plausible explanation. As much as he wanted to, it wasn't like Percy could go marching up to the White House and demand an audience with the president to say that what was happening wasn't the end of the world or a drastic effect of global warming, no, it was actually the result of the gods' war. Yeah, _those_ gods, the ancient Greek ones. Yep, it sounds ridiculous. Where are they? Well, usually they reside at the top of the Empire State Building—

As well as that might have gone, Percy wasn't keen on being locked up in an asylum for the rest of his life, so his only options were to either hope with all his might that the gods would figure it out and stop fighting—and destroying the world—or to take things into his own hands and stop the fighting himself. Really, it was an easy decision, and naturally he chose the option that almost one hundred percent guaranteed him a painful death at the wrath of the Most Holy Ones.

For not the first time, Percy found himself wishing he had some help. The start of the war had brought many things, most noticeably the absence of his friends. Annabeth Chase's mother, Athena, had forbid them from seeing each other, hinting rather unsubtly at an untimely demise for Percy should he try and break this limitation. He and Nico di Angelo had had a similar farewell, enforced by Hades, and the rest of his somewhat-friends (they were closer to friendly acquaintances) were directed by their parents-on-the-god-side in much the same manner. That left Rachel Dare, but as she was now the Oracle, she was too busy reciting prophecies and being mystical and vanishing all over the place to fight for the sake of the world with him.

There was just no way that he alone could make even the tiniest dent of a difference in the outcome of this war by himself, and as he was. He might be powerful compared to the other demi-gods and humans, but to the gods, he was practically a puppet, at least when they could find him. He found he was becoming increasingly skillful with his so-called evasive maneuvers (aka: run and hide), which at first had felt cowardly before he realized that he'd be a bloody idiot to try and fight. It was really just self preservation and common sense.

Percy hunched over, palms against his thighs to hold himself up as he caught his breath, shaking his shaggy dark hair from his eyes. This had to stop. He didn't even have a god to be affiliated with anymore now that his father had been killed, so he was even more screwed than he initially had been.

Abruptly, Percy stood up, staring blankly at the wall in front of him but deep in thought. If he was no longer affiliated with the sea god, wouldn't that make him a sort of…free agent? A grimace made its way onto his lips as he continued to ponder his predicament. He and the gods were not exactly on friendly terms, and he was sure some sort of deal would have to be made with the god of his choosing if he wanted any help; furthermore, one god was not enough. Several would have to gang up on the rest for there to be any chance, since none could conquer the rest…

…_But that's not true,_ Percy thought bitterly, his eyes narrowing involuntarily. _Da— Poseidon was overpowered._ He refused to dwell upon what this might mean for him, and pushed the thoughts away to focus on his still profusely bleeding side. It would need some sort of aid, quickly, and he had no gauze or tourniquet, but he was too wary to venture back out onto the open streets yet. Thinking fast, Percy drew the hem of his shirt up to his teeth and tore off several long strips to wrap around his torso before pulling his dark navy shirt over his head and throwing it to the side, wincing only slightly as he bandaged the deep wound.

His makeshift bandage would be soaked through soon enough, though, and he needed shelter for the night; a scream sounded not too far off, and Percy swore again as he ignored the stabbing pain in his side and ran.

* * *

Despite his injury and growing exhaustion, Percy enjoyed running alongside the highway. There was something about it that made him feel alive, although he supposed that reasoning was not exactly sound. The waxing and waning _rush_ of each car to pass, so fleeting yet thrumming with energy, the headlights casting bright light against the rain-washed, glistening pavement; he loved it, thrived amongst it. He knew he wouldn't quite feel the same if he was in one of the cars, either (though maybe if it was that goddamn beautiful black Aston Martin Vanquish he wanted so badly, the horsepower humming around him would surpass whatever he felt currently). He gave the people inside the commanding machines no thought; they couldn't see him, and if they happened to catch a glimpse, he would be just as fleeting to them as they were to him. Life, sped up.

_Not fast-forwarded, though, _Percy thought grimly; his side stung like a smack from Annabeth, and reminded him that however much of a different world the highway seemed, it wasn't, and he was still pretty fucked. An upcoming side road with a dimly-lit sign for a motel was his best option unless he wanted to run through the night and bleed to death. Hopefully there would be some sort of drug store nearby; if not, he supposed he could pay for the pillow case he'd use to staunch the bleeding some more.

As he turned down the road, he slowed to a walk, breathing deeply through his nose to try and regain a steady heartbeat; the adrenaline was still present and he could feel it with every quick thump of his sadly mortal heart. To be immortal…. Percy shook his head and grimaced, regretting not for the first time his decision to abstain from the god life back when he'd saved Olympus the last time. Immortality could have helped him, although he would have been made a minor god, and in such a war as this, he doubted he would have stood a chance. He wasn't sure what he would have even been made a god _of_. Not the sea, that had been Poseidon. God of stupidity, maybe.

After entering the dingy motel Percy walked to the front desk, raising an eyebrow at the large woman who was slumped in her chair, apparently asleep with a still-lit cigarette hanging from her lavishly painted lips. He cleared his throat rather loudly and the woman stirred, cracking one eye open lazily before slowly sitting up, grunting at the evident effort.

"How can I help you." Her voice was deep and sneering, unattractive as a whole, and she eyed Percy, shirtless as he was, as though he were a piece of meat. He rubbed his arm, uncomfortable.

"I'd like a room…?" Duh.

"For how long." She phrased each question like an exasperated statement, as if she had anything better to do. It annoyed Percy, and he sighed loudly enough for her to hear his impatience.

"Just tonight. Also, do you know of any nearby drug stores that I could reach on foot?"

"That'll be a hundred and twenty dollars, flat rate. An included breakfast is ten more. There's one just a ways down this road, not more than a mile." Her facial expression remained as one smelling something unpleasant, and Percy tried to avoid rolling his eyes. Over one hundred, to sleep in this piece of shit? That was pushing it, and he was more than sure he didn't want to taste its food, but it was his only option. He handed over his Visa with some distaste, assuring her he'd find his own breakfast, that he had to be gone early, and thanked her unnecessarily as she handed him his room key and credit card. Pocketing both, he turned instead towards the entrance; he needed some pain medication if he wanted any sleep at all, and the way his eyes were starting to droop, sleep was seriously called for.

The drug store seemed to be the only other tangible building along the road, so it was easy to spot from far away. An ancient, wrinkled Asian man who stood stooped behind the counter was the only other person in the small store, as was expected. He was in The Middle Of Fucking Nowhere, New York, and he didn't much like it, but at least he wouldn't be bothered by gangs or, hopefully, anyone else of the god-like sort. He perused the drink aisle first, choosing an Arnold Palmer before finding the medicine. Regretfully, he picked up Advil and Tylenol, wishing fervently that he could have some Vicodin or Oxycodone instead. He grabbed gauze and an ace bandage, then cursed himself mentally for chucking his shirt; he'd have to wait until he found a legitimate store the next day. Shaking his head as though he were almost amazed at his own stupidity—almost, because really, he'd accepted the fact that things like this were bound to happen frequently—he made his way to the counter to pay.

Several things happened at once; as Percy put his money on the counter, the fat lady from the hotel burst into the store, shaking the entire doorframe, her blubber wobbling with her body as she attempted to catch her breath. At the same time, the Asian man behind the counter had drawn a sharp, jagged knife.

The sight was a little startling, but Percy was used to extremely dubious events involving him, so he took several steps back from the Asian man, placed his hand on Riptide, and looked back and forth between the woman and the man.

"What the fuck?" was all that he could think to say.

Without saying a word, the woman turned on the Asian man and punched him square in the nose, at which point he disappeared in a cloud of dust that smelled vaguely of sushi.

"Perseus Jackson," the woman rumbled in her low, unattractive drawl.

"That's my name…" Percy said, smiling uneasily as he unconsciously took another step backwards, knocking into a row of candy, scattering it across the linoleum floor.

"You're in trouble," was the flat response.

Percy, still slightly unnerved, nodded slowly and raised an eyebrow. "I'm well aware, thanks. What…who are you?"

"A certain Rachel Dare sent me…" the woman paused, letting this sink in; Percy assumed that she knew how frustrating it was that that was all she could tell him. Instead of asking the most obvious question, though, he ended up blurting: "She _knows_ you?"

Rolled eyes were the first response. "Yes, she knows me. She got me out of quite a pickle some time ago involving four satyrs, a banana and… well, anyway, I owed her a favor, so here I am."

Percy was rather thankful that she'd been disinclined to elaborate on the situation from which Rachel had rescued her. "Alright…so…why'd she send you then?" He asked expectantly.

"She gave me a message to deliver to you. Firstly, she sends her condolences for your father's death."

Percy looked away and cleared his throat, indicating for the woman to move on, as she'd gone silent after this first point.

"Now to the more important things," she said somewhat inconsiderately. "Apparently Zeus and Athena are in the midst of striking some sort of bargain that will put them on the same side, so you must hurry to counter this and convince as many gods as you can—" she eyed him skeptically "—to join together under your direction or hope will be lost. She also says that while you may hate him, Ares is strong and will be your biggest asset, so 'suck it up and be a man.'" Percy scowled at this. "Lastly…she says there may be a way to bring your father back, and to find Nico should you desire such a thing, but to be careful in your dealings with the god of the dead or you may find yourself bound in ways you do not wish to be."

A heavy silence hung in the humid hair as Percy processed this information, briefly storing Rachel's knowledge of the war's goings-on in the back of his mind so he could focus on the more significant topic of his father. To bring him back…there was no other course of action possible. It had to be done. He would do anything, that much he was sure of.

The cleared throat startled Percy out of his dazed thoughts and he blinked at the woman.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to get back to my hotel…you will be staying the night, still, I assume. Also, you might want to pick up a shirt…" she walked behind the counter and retrieved the Asian man's tee-shirt, which had been on the ground with the rest of his clothes, then handed it to him. "Here." She proceeded to walk out the door.

After a stunned moment, Percy yelled out a delayed thanks after her and hastily examined the store for anything more he could find that he may want before heading out and following.

* * *

Back in his hotel room—which was no nicer than the lobby had been, although Percy supposed he could admire the consistency—he tore into a Poptart after having bandaged his wound and slumped across his bed on his back, feeling as though he were in shock. It was possible to bring his father back? The knowledge made his heart swell in hope and sorrow simultaneously. The woman had said to find Nico…that most likely meant striking a deal with Hades, naturally, and that could never be good, but as he continued to turn the thought over in his mind, Percy became increasingly sure that no matter the cost, he would be a good son and save Poseidon from an eternity in the Underworld, the last place the god of the sea belonged; the only way to restore order would require Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, united.

But things right now….they did not look good. Zeus and Athena's alliance was both surprising and unnerving, and Percy knew his first course of action would require a visit to see Ares, to whom he was at the top of the Most Wanted list. Fantastic. Not entirely sure of where to find him, Percy supposed he'd just have to return to Alcatraz and make a scene and hope with all his heart that they'd rather capture him alive than dead. His chances were not good, but there was really no alternative, and he had to act right away to ensure that Zeus and Athena didn't annihilate all chances of recovery on the part of the rest of the gods. The whole situation was a shitfuck, honestly, and Percy did not like one bit of it. Especially the fact that now, Annabeth and Thalia were on one side and he was left on the other, still distanced from the two people he cared most about (excluding Grover and Tyson, but the two of them had been so absent from his life lately—he hadn't spoken to either in over eight months—that he tended to think less and less about them).

"Holy shit," Percy groaned before rolling over onto his face and tugging at his hair. He briefly considered, as his eyes started to droop and his exhaustion set in, making a plan of entrance for when he showed up at Alcatraz, but figured he didn't really need one and within ten minutes was sleeping like the dead.

* * *

_Coffee_, Percy blearily thought as he opened his eyes to a loud, painful rapping on his skull that just would not go away. He was sure it wasn't a hangover, either, since he'd sobered up long before he'd fallen asleep. With some effort he made a swatting movement with his hand and the knocking ceased. Huh.

"Hey. Seaweed brain."

That voice sounded familiar. So did that name, although he didn't much like it unless it was said by Annabe—

Percy sat straight up and found himself face to face with the daughter of Athena, who was leaning over him by the side of his bed. "Annabeth! Wha…what are you doing here?"

"Waking you up, obviously," she said with a small smirk, running a hand through her long blonde hair that seemed to have acquired even more of a golden sheen since the last time Percy had seen her. The streak of gray was still there, though, reminding him of Annabeth's sacrifice and his own vow to never let such a thing happen to her again.

Percy stood slowly, almost cautiously; it had been a while, and gods, how he'd missed her. They were standing so close they were almost touching, now, and Percy reached to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear before throwing caution to the winds and sliding his hands around her waist, finally drawing her to him in a way he'd been dying to for months. His mind was blank save for endless thoughts of _her_, and he pressed his forehead to hers, refusing to close his eyes because her face was so much more beautiful here, even, than in his memory.

"Annabeth…" he whispered, his breath hot against her lips and he felt her tremble like she always would in moments like this, a subtle reminder to him of the effect he had on her.

She lifted a hand to his face, not bothering to close her own eyes as she drew his mouth to her own and fuck, it was so much better than all the times he'd imagined it. When his eyes finally shut he was lost in the touch and the taste; the way her tongue would playfully circle his, the way her fingers would clench in his hair when he bit her lip, the way this came so easily to them even after such irrevocable distance. It was perfection, and try as he might to sustain himself otherwise, Percy couldn't get enough.

"Would you two get a room? …Well, I guess you're in one, but come _on_ Annabeth, we did not come here for…_this_."

Percy and Annabeth broke apart immediately at the voiced disgust sounding from the opposite side of the room; sure enough, there was Thalia, arms crossed, leaning against the wall somewhat arrogantly. Percy ignored the heat rising in his cheeks and turned towards his other friend, patting his hair down from where Annabeth had tugged it in every which way and asked, "What did you come for, then?"

"_We_ came to warn you, and to tell you that you better make the smart decision and join us especially since your dad is…otherwise occupied down under." Thalia was clearly not in a good mood.

Annabeth gave Thalia a look before taking Percy's hand and squeezing it briefly, turning back to him as she added, "You must have heard that Zeus and Athena have made a deal. The rest of the gods don't have a chance. You really should swear allegiance to Zeus to ensure your own safety. I heard you and Tyson, as Poseidon's children, are up for grabs, and I just…I don't want anything to happen to you."

Percy was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly at Annabeth's words. "You mean you're _okay_ with this? You're just going to allow Zeus and Athena to take over? Not what you'd call a fair fight. And what, has Thalia just abandoned Artemis? Can she do that?"

"In times of crisis like this, yes, as Zeus is my father and naturally has final say. Percy, don't be pigheaded. Seaweed-headed. Whatever. Anyways, _someone_ has to come out on top and hell if it's not going to be us." That was Thalia. Percy ignored her and glared at Annabeth instead.

"She's right," Annabeth said, disregarding Percy's expression and giving him an exasperated look. "You're being ridiculous. There is no other way to end this war."

Taking a step back, Percy drew his hand from Annabeth's, shaking his head. "No. _No_. Olympus is not supposed to be ruled by whichever god comes out on top. In your case, gods. It's supposed to be equal. There is a better way, the _right_ way, to end this war, and I thought you, Annabeth, would have been above this. Thalia, I'm really not that surprised, but even you have to have a conscience. Since when did you want to be dictator? That's what it'll be like, you know. The end doesn't justify the means."

"Fuck you, Percy. If you want to let the world be destroyed by this war, suit yourself, but I'm not going to be a coward by standing around and watching it happen," Thalia spat before turning and exiting the room.

"Coward my ass," he muttered before turning to Annabeth. "…Annabeth…you _can't_ agree with her, you're smarter than this." Percy's head was spinning. Of all the people in the world, he was sure _Annabeth_ would have backed him on this, would have done anything to ensure the restoration of Olympus to its previous glory, not some mutual dictatorship between two gods who were greedy. Annabeth was the moral one. Annabeth was the wise one. This was crazy. Nuts. He couldn't wrap his head around it. And he was angry at himself for hoping that he wouldn't have to do this alone, but all he could do now was try harder and prove that in the end, it was better to choose the right way than the easy way.

Annabeth sighed and started to turn to leave, her eyes sad but decided. "I'm sorry Percy. It's the only thing we can do. I'd try to persuade you some more but I know how stubborn you are. I—I love you. You're being stupid. Just remember you can always change your mind."

Percy stared after her as she left the room, his shock fading into more anger. This was so _wrong._ Thalia and Annabeth had undoubtedly been corrupted by their respective parents, but that didn't mean he was or had to be (barring the fact that his father wasn't available to corrupt him). As had so often happened in the past, Percy was taking the most difficult path, and he'd never before backed down in the face of a challenge.

* * *

Annabeth sighed noisily and slumped into the nearest seat, which happened to be an oddly-shaped rock, her head dropping to her hands as she bit her lip and fought back those wicked tears that were always threatening to fall these days.

"Oh, Annabeth, come on," Thalia grumbled, pacing back and forth as the two waited for an audience with Athena and Zeus in some mystical garden located behind the Niagara Falls in Canada. "It's just…just Percy! Just this stupid guy. He doesn't matter. Think of the _world_. They all need us. We're doing the right thing. Percy's brain is as diluted with salt water and fish as I think he has the capacity for but you know he'll come around. If he's as crazy over you as you seem to be for him, that'll be enough to send him running for you."

However, Annabeth shook her head, as she lifted it and looked up at the cloudless evening sky, blinking away the moisture. "I don't think so, Thal. Things are different now anyway. Ever since my mother—" Annabeth paused and glanced around before continuing: "—forbid us from seeing each other, our relations have gotten worse, little by little…goddamn stupid rule, she _knows_ how I feel about him, and maybe even better knows how he feels, and…aauurgh!" Annabeth let out a sound of defeated exasperation. "I hate her sometimes. I swear it's a fucking power trip for her! That's the only reason she chooses t—"

"Yes, darling? You mentioned me?"

Annabeth closed her eyes and steeled herself momentarily before plastering the biggest, most fake grin she could muster across her face and turning to look right into the eyes of her mother, the goddess Athena.

"Of course. I was merely making Thalia suffer through hearing all of your amazing qualities for the hundredth time."

Athena was not amused. "I will not take such lip from my inferior, especially if she is my daughter. I expected better poise from you, Annabeth." Disappointment was etched across the goddess' face, and despite the fact that her angry accusations had been true, and she believed them, she felt shame flood her cheeks at her mothers' stern tone.

"Am I not allowed a moment's anger or frustration?" she muttered, picking at a piece of skin by one of her finger nails until it bled; it had become a habit in recent times.

Athena ignored this, and after a second's pause, Zeus appeared next to her, looking collected and dazzling in the gold armor he frequented. "You know something greater is stirring beneath the façade of the gods'…disagreements."

_Lightly put,_ Annabeth thought as she raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Maybe. You don't know anything for certain," Thalia admitted, eyeing her father skeptically, although there was curiosity hidden there, too.

"No, we do not. However, it is wisest for the three strongest gods to align; with Poseidon gone, that makes me next. We have not yet succeeded in…convincing Hades, but we are working on it. You two should learn not to question those smarter and more knowledgeable than you," Athena replied.

"And stronger," Zeus added.

"Whatever," Thalia rolled her eyes. "We've already agreed to help you. What is it you want? You clearly had some reason to meet with us."

"Yes, yes. Hades has refused to allow any god, minor or otherwise, into his realm. He's being more stubborn than usual, and frankly, it is getting on my last nerve. As neither Zeus nor I will be able to bring him under co—onto our side…we require mortals to speak with and persuade him."

Annabeth bit her lip, hard, to stay the onslaught of curses that threatened to erupt. Didn't she have enough to worry about, what with her attempts to gain the allegiance of Camp Half Blood and the minor gods? Now, she had to tackle Hades? Gods…she hated the Underworld. She suppressed a shiver.

Thalia glanced at Annabeth, noticed her almost-anemic color and the angry flush to her cheeks, and quickly answered, "Fine, fine, we'll get it done. Be gone with you now."

Zeus gave his daughter a stern look but he and Athena acquiesced and with a nod, both vanished into the mist.

The minute the gods were departed, Thalia turned to Annabeth and gave her a look of apology, sighing almost inaudibly.

"I didn't sign up for this," Annabeth murmured, her steely gray eyes far away.

"Yeah. I know. I'll handle it, if you want."

But at this, Annabeth's eyes lit up, again, and her lips pressed into a thin line before she ran a hand through her hair and said, her tone exasperated but definitive, "No. You're not going to do my work. I've never backed down from anything, and I won't start here, not where I'm most needed." She gave Thalia a grim smile. "Time to take a trip to visit our dear old uncle of the dead."


	2. Convergence

**Carrion**

**

* * *

**Chapter II - Convergence

* * *

Percy groaned out loud and rolled over onto his face, breathing in the hotel sheets. Thankfully they smelled like his shampoo. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, his current situation was less than ideal and although he knew he could get by on his own, he had no idea where to start. The most obvious course of action would be to revisit Alcatraz to try and seek an audience with Ares, but gods, he really did not want to do that.

Want and necessity were, of course, completely separate, but he figured he could get away with putting it off for one more day. Or five. Or a couple of years, or even decades, but who was counting?

Giving another grunt as he sat up, legs hanging over the side of the mattress before hitting the floor, Percy rubbed a weary hand over his face and then looked up into the mirror, nearly wincing at his own reflection. He looked terrible. This was the first full night of sleep he'd gotten since Annabeth's visit, and it had been over a week. He'd continued to move around—it wasn't like he was going to stay in that god-awful motel—and was currently residing at some five-star place in Boston. The name had been of no consequence to him, and he was operating in a sort-of numb daze. However, there was no more time for moping around and ignoring everything. He knew he had to get his act together; yes, it had been shocking that Annabeth was not, in fact, going to take his side and help him out, as she had always done, but the fate of the world was at stake, and so it appeared to be Percy's obligation to try and save everyone from obliteration by the gods. What a fantastic life he lived.

The negativity he felt seemed to suck his vitality out of him and leave him empty save for misery, and he was not used to it. Usually an optimistic person, this change of spirit was practically debilitating to him and did not give the impression of going anywhere any time soon.

Percy made himself a cup of coffee from his hotel room—anything to avoid human contact—and showered as it brewed, making sure to grab the extra shampoo bottles and soaps in case he was not able to stay anywhere in the near future. Having had almost thirty minutes awake, Percy had decided that it would have to be today, regardless of how much he might desire hours and hours of blissful, uninterrupted sleep. Dreams were bound to trouble him, in any case. Just that night he'd had one which depicted Annabeth hanging by her ankles in a dungeon, but maybe that had merely been wishful thinking on his part, and revenge was not going to get him anywhere.

There was no need for a plan, although on his way he needed to think of exactly what to say to first stop Ares from killing him, and then to get him on his side. Whatever his side was, since he was currently godless. With that in mind, he got his few things together and shoved them into his pockets, making sure Riptide was accessible, and left, leaving a short note to the hotel thanking for its prolonged hospitality to him; he had not been the neatest or most polite customer by any means, and had insisted on room service every night. Maybe it was unnecessary but a little kindness always went a long way.

Right. Transportation. That had completely slipped his mind, and he stood outside the hotel, staggered by this one small detail. His eyes sped over his surroundings until—

Percy winced, smacking a hand to his face. Why was it that he always had to resort to the worst possible methods for getting things done? There was a single car parked outside the hotel—he assumed it was the concierge's, or even another guest's—and of course Annabeth had taught him how to hotwire. Glancing at the sky and pleading with all the gods to maybe, just maybe, replace the car, he walked over, shaking his head to shed the guilty thoughts, and was immensely glad he'd at least thought to leave the note.

The car was _nice_. Some variation of an Aston Martin; Percy knew it to be a Vantage, a newer model, one he did not like as much as the Vanquish, but _still_. What were the chances? Whistling under this breath as he found it wasn't even locked, he got to work, unable to help the pride that rose in his throat when the engine revved to life. He put it into gear and damn, it felt nice; all sleek and black and leather and pure power. Ares would appreciate it, at least. Maybe he could bargain with the car, although he was sure Ares would be able to get himself whatever car he wanted at the snap of his fingers. Could come in handy, though, and he'd learned to recognize that things like this were never a coincidence. Fate wove the world with intricate design, and hopefully its owner knew that too and wouldn't be too mad…probably not, but necessity trumped law for him. One day he'd find out whose car it was and get the person a new one.

Heeding speed limits in times like these was futile, Percy decided, and so he arrived at Logan Airport in less than twenty minutes from where he was. Feeling a lot of trepidation about using the _sky_ as a means of getting back to California (he'd gotten to New York by cars, making it more difficult for Ares' minions to track him), Percy swallowed his fear and his common sense in one gulp and parked the car, thinking for a minute of how best to appease Zeus, or at least render the god unaware of his presence. That was probably unlikely, but he managed to buy the first ticket to San Francisco—first class—that he could find and was on the plane in no time. Briefly, he said a prayer to Zeus saying he owed him big time. It was with a heavy heart and an empty mind that Percy closed his eyes and sat back in his seat, not hungry enough to take advantage of the wine and delicious chicken dinner available to him.

Luckily, the flight went smoothly, and three hours later Percy found himself renting a car—this time, a nice new Dodge Durango in dark green—and on the road in no time. Again, he ignored the speed limits; his impatience was at an all time high and he just wanted to get this whole damn thing over with. It was a gloomy day in California. The clouds were not overly dark, but they still covered the sky and threatened rain, which did not do anything to heighten his morale.

He pulled into the parking space nearest the front entrance; strangely, there was no one in sight, and the entire parking lot was empty. He shivered and locked the doors as he got out, spotting two guards ahead of him. Out of habit, he started to say a hasty plea to his father not to get slaughtered, but remembered that there was no use. Steeling himself, he walked up to the guards and prayed they didn't kill him on the spot, which of course was what they'd been trying to do since he escaped the first time, but hey, maybe the surrender would catch them by surprise and they wouldn't know what to do.

The guards were two Minotaurs that were having a horrible hair day; Ares had apparently dyed their fur dark red and it stuck out every which way. Percy eyed their bodies for a moment, stifling a laugh he was sure wasn't going to help him out any, and then gave a dazzling smile. "I'm here to see Ares," he said in as calm a voice as he could muster. Frankly, he thought he was doing a pretty good job. The guards did not lower their shotguns, though.

"Yeah, well, not just anyone gets to see him, eh? Ain't that right, Larius?" The one on the left nudged what appeared to be Larius, who grinned evilly at Percy.

"Wait a minute, Albert, ain't this the Jackson boy? The one whose head Ares wants presented to him on a spike?"

"You know, Lar, I think it is."

They both squinted at him and Percy fought the overwhelming urge to run.

"Guys, guys. Don't you know why I'm here?" Percy thought fast, then gave another, albeit somewhat shakier, grin. The Minotaurs shook their heads in unison. "Well, see, Ares and I go way back. _Way_ back. So, I figured, why not just surrender myself so _he_ can be the one to kill me? More honorable than getting killed by one of those other idiots he sent after me. Not you two, of course," he said hastily, eyes flashing from one Minotaur to the other.

"Well," started Albert, turning his head to talk to Larius, "I guess Ares would be pretty pleased with us if we brought the boy in, eh?"

"Yeah, I think you're right, Al. I think maybe we'll even get a reward, yeah, Al? You think?"

"Think so, Lar. Right, right. So, boy, jus' turn around and we'll cuff you's hands here," Albert said, fumbling for his handcuffs while Percy obliged, attempting not to roll his eyes and failing. Their stupidity—and his own impatience—was killing him. Cold metal pinched his wrists and Larius took the lead, with Albert behind to push Percy every so often. He stumbled each time, getting so pissed off he debated grabbing Riptide from his back pocket and fighting them with the cuffs on.

_One more time,_ he thought nastily, and scowled at the ground momentarily before, sure enough, the Minotaur shoved him forward and he whipped around, opening his mouth to spew any number of curses at the monster.

"I believe you rang?"

The voice hadn't come out of his own mouth, so Percy shut it in annoyance and turned back to find Ares standing not ten feet away, looking dashing in an all-black, fine-tailored suit. His eyes retained their evil glint even as the god smiled, flashing his ultra white teeth as he bade the guards return to their post. They grumbled but made their way back, and Percy heard them arguing over a reward as their voices faded. Ares looked after them in amusement.

"I see you've met my guards. They're insufferable, really, but wonderfully loyal and complete brutes in a fight." Ares' grin widened. "Do walk with me, Percy Jackson. I must admit I'm a tad surprised to see you here. I never thought you were the type to…be reasonable, let alone surrender. Care to explain?"

While Ares could be unsettling, Percy did not find the god to be unpleasant or even all that intimidating, at least dressed as he was in a suit and tie. "Obviously you're aware of the current war," Percy began, and Ares nodded. It had been some time since Percy had last seen him, but here on Earth, they were virtually the same height; he had to admit, it was strange to be able to look a god—the god of war, no less—in the eye, and it gave him more confidence than he probably had a right to in his current situation. "I don't know if you've heard, but Zeus and Athena teamed up, made some sort of alliance…don't know the details, just that if the rest of the go—"

"_What?_" Ares shouted, apparently furious as fire erupted in his palms and his eyes turned a hot, blistering red. "Those cheaters—unfair advantage—what the _fuck_ do they think they're doing—" Ares turned toward Percy in a rage, and for a moment, he was reminded of why he used to fear the god.

"Um…Ares…," Percy cleared his throat quickly before Ares could unleash any of that anger on him, choosing his words carefully. "Don't you see what I'm saying though? The rest of the gods—as many as we can get—should team up and get…revenge…on them. Because Olympus isn't supposed to be ruled by just two, it's supposed to be ruled by all of you, and—"

Percy was cut off again by Ares, who had at least calmed down significantly as Percy had talked. "Yes, yes. Revenge sounds delicious. I don't necessarily want to be teaming up with anyone else but I think it'd be imprudent to take on Zeus and Athena on my own, them being the strongest now that your dear old daddy's gone. And I can't forget Hades but I believe he'd be more willing to join us than them." It was easy to detect the resentment and loathing behind Ares' voice, and suddenly, Percy wasn't so sure getting Ares on his side was such a good idea. After all, weren't all of the gods just as selfish as Zeus and Athena? But he'd deal with that later, and hopefully convince Ares and whoever else they got on their side that it was essential for the gods to live in harmony, or the wars would never end. Not that Ares would mind that, even.

Lost in thought, Percy was unprepared when Ares whirled toward him and grabbed his soldiers, looking him right in the eyes. "You're not mad I was partly responsible for your daddy's death, Percy Jackson? You must be positively _burning_ with hate…Ah, yes, I can see it. I can even feel it emanating from you. Wouldn't you just love to kill me? Fight me to the death, butcher me with your sword, pound me to a pulp with your bare hands?"

Ares' breath smelled like fire and ash and blood and whisky.

Percy had begun to shake with the very abhorrence Ares was describing, and could easily appreciate each violent word that came from the god of war. Still…he had larger things to worry about, and once again, he found himself swallowing his emotions for the greater good. "Yeah. I almost want nothing more….almost. But see, there are other things at stake, here, and at least I'm man enough to ignore how much I despise you and work with you instead."

The god's lips curled into a smirk, and Percy felt his hands freed from the shackles, which fell to the ground. He brought them around to rub at his raw wrists, which he saw were bleeding faintly.

"You're an interesting one, Percy Jackson. It will be a pleasure working with you." Ares extended his right hand, and without hesitation, Percy grasped it, shaking it once before letting go; a sensation of burning had spread across his palm, somewhat like the piercing pain of a thousand needles, and he didn't like it much. Not knowing what exactly to say in response to that, Percy made up his mind quickly and decided to touch upon another subject he'd been wondering about since he'd learned of his father's death.

"So. Now that my dad's dead…what exactly does that make me? As far as I know, a god has never died before. I thought I wouldn't have been a demi-god anymore but that doesn't make sense either, since I still have his blood."

"Yes, I too was wondering about that," Ares said after a pause, leading Percy to what at first glance was another cell; on further examination, he saw it to be Ares' office. "It seems to me that you've retained your powers despite Poseidon's demise. However, that leaves you at a disadvantage to the other demi-gods, since their parents can send them help and what not. Sucks, eh?"

Percy ignored the last comment. "Right, and it won't help me at this point to be at a disadvantage to everyone, since even my…friends…aren't on my side anymore. Could—do you think it's possible for another god to kind of…adopt me?"

Ares studied him over his desk, which was completely bare save for a beautiful looking black pistol that Percy was dying to handle, and for the first time, Percy was truly able to take in the god's appearance since the last time he'd seen him, and back then, he'd been more frightened and less aware of exactly what Ares looked like. He was undeniably handsome, with a defined jaw and high cheekbones, and his black eyes smoldered like the embers from a fire, which somehow added to his apparent allure. His hair was black as well, and it was the perfect length; not too short, not too long. A jab of envy struck Percy; he knew he himself was attractive, but Ares was flawless. Somewhat irrationally, he swore to himself he'd never let Annabeth near the war god. Ever.

"Of course it's possible, but—no offense—who in their right mind would want you?" Ares let out a snort, and Percy, indignant, was about to reply when Ares held up a palm and continued. "I'm half-joking, don't worry. We're gods, Percy," Ares grinned, fixing him with those deadly scorching eyes, and Percy did not doubt it. "We can do anything we want. There are no rules, really, and rules are made to be broken anyway, yeah? I suppose the start of this war was because of the fact that no one ever wants to follow the rules. It's boring, and more than anything, we gods like entertainment. But this has gone too far. You earthlings are our best source of entertainment and at this rate, you'll all be destroyed. Can't have that, now, can we?

"You were right to come to me; I know you doubted that choice. You can see my anger and hatred so clearly because, at the moment, you know exactly what it feels like. Don't worry. I'm neither unintelligent nor…impractical, unlike most of my family. I would never try to take over. My rule would not last and the title would be empty with no one to back it. Yes, Percy Jackson, I'm afraid you're more than right in that the gods must coexist equally, or not at all. Now," Ares said, his tone less faraway as he refocused on Percy entirely, "it sounds like you're…looking for _adoption_, am I right? Anyone in mind?" Ares' smirk widened.

"No, actually," Percy admitted, shrugging. He was feeling a bit relieved, actually, after Ares' musings on the war, and more at ease than he'd been in a long time; he still hated the guy, but at least he could respect him, and work with him. That was all that was necessary. "Hadn't really thought about it further than that I don't want some powerless minor god backing me or anything. Won't do me much good."

"No, probably not. I'll do it."

Percy blinked and choked on his own spit as he tried to process what had just been said, hacking into his arm until his throat was clear. "Excuse me?"

"I said," Ares said slowly, annunciating each word as though speaking to a toddler, "I will take you in. Adopt you. Make you my new demi-god pseudo-son."

Silence.

Percy had not planned on anything of the sort happening, but now it had, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. While he might seriously detest the god across from him, he could at least admit to himself that as far as god foster-fathers went, Ares was about as good as he could get aside from Hades, and it would be prudent to agree, since it ensured that the god would be on his side throughout this war; he couldn't afford to lose this alliance, especially since the worst was yet to come and who was he, anyway, to refuse a god? He may have been successful in the past, but that was a long time ago and as far as he was concerned, it could have been a different lifetime based on how much had changed since then.

If anything, he could learn to change with the times. He had to. Survival was all, the most important thing he had, and he wouldn't stop trying to beat the odds and prevail, to never give in but adapt to what fate had planned and hopefully not perish in the process. And maybe, maybe his hate was wrongly directed at Ares. They were all the pawns of fate, and while Ares might be the rook against him, a knight, they were surely on the same board working toward the same end, no matter the means. Ares had lost just as he had lost; in different ways, surely, but loss was universal and hadn't he said he was _partly_ responsible, anyway? Something greater than the both of them was driving this meeting, the events leading up to it, and even the war, and Percy knew it would be best to bury that hate and direct it at his enemies, not his allies.

At this, Percy smirked a bit. The expression felt foreign on his lips but he found he enjoyed it, with these sentiments backing it. Right then, he wanted nothing more than to hate, to use that hate to get everything he wanted and more. He felt powerful.

"Yes. Okay. I accept." Percy's voice sounded detached, even to his own ears; he didn't much like it, but he ignored it for the time being. Ares eyed him curiously but otherwise said nothing about Percy's internal shift.

"Great," Ares replied in a casual, almost cautious tone. There was an air of awkwardness, and Percy knew Ares could feel it.

He looked out the window to the sky…it seemed to mirror his emotions as the clouds swirled, so dark they were almost onyx and the silence was deafening as he watched the fusion of grays unfurl amongst themselves, creating whirl-pools in the air. And the tension…he could feel it, the same way he felt the apprehension of a wave about to break, as though the world itself were taking a deep breath, holding it, and then letting it go with an explosion…_alive_. Lightning split the clouds as if to mirror Percy's thoughts, and on cue, thunder followed. He wondered if this was Zeus's doing. He didn't care. When he was not in direct sight of water he loved the turbulence of a storm; it was as close to the sea as he could get on land.

After the next flash of lightning he directed his attention back to Ares. "So…what does this mean, now? Does anything need to happen to make it official? Will anything happen to me?"

"Nope. The minute you agreed it was official. Actually," Ares said, erasing the awkward pressure between them with one easy smile, "I think you'll find you now have an astounding affinity for all forms of warfare and combat. And I daresay you look a little more like me. Aren't you a lucky guy."

"Seriously? Give me a mirror," Percy demanded, hastily grabbing the square one Ares held toward him.

The differences were subtle, but they were at least apparent to Percy; whereas before he'd had more boyish good looks, now his jaw was defined like Ares', and his eyes…they were much darker, more of a blue-obsidian merge that seemed endless in depth and also seemed to burn, to flicker, like the surface of the water he so loved to breathe in. He was truly handsome, and Percy decided he liked it. A lot. This was his greed at its worst but hell if he wasn't going to embrace it. Annabeth wouldn't be able to resist him. "Wow," he muttered, turning his face to the side a bit, his eyes still trained on the mirror. "Weird as shit, but damn."

Ares just laughed. "Don't tell me you're not itching to try out your sword _now_," the god said, raising an eyebrow. "You can spar with me."

"Yeah. Yeah, alright," Percy said, dropping the mirror in a heartbeat. A true grin spread across his face and he felt light, unperturbed, stronger than before and also in an unfathomably more secure position than he'd been in that very morning.

They walked out into the yard as the thunder cracked again, and Percy gave a shiver. Zeus was _mad_, although Percy wondered if the god knew the cause for his anger, or merely was aware that something had happened to undermine his advance. It was most likely the latter, or the god would already have been there to…have a word with Ares. He decided to feed off of the energy in the air rather than cower from it, and he pulled Riptide from his pocket, clicking the end and watching as the shining sword sprung from it, cutting through the air like it hungered to cut through more.

Ares carried a battle ax, and Percy questioned why the god wouldn't also choose a sword, but put it out of his mind as they walked toward each other slowly, stalking in circles with the clouds.

As Ares came at him, Percy saw the satisfied glee in his eyes and mused briefly that the god probably didn't get too much action like this, at least for fun, and peace-time had lasted a while before the war broke out. In some ways, he had missed sparring as well. The edge of Riptide clashed with Ares' ax and sparks flew from the metal. Percy twisted sideways as Ares attempted another blow; he dodged it and rolled on the ground to a standing position, raising his sword from behind Ares. The god was quick, and parried the drive with his own offensive moves. This went on for some time, neither able to overcome the other. Percy could attest to the fact that his skills had definitely improved; he was able to fairly fight with the god, and he knew Ares wasn't going easy on him. After about an hour, both were panting and sweating, even as the air cooled.

Percy leaned over his sword, struggling for a deep breath as he swiped his drenched hair from his eyes and grinned. "That was damn fun," he laughed, straightening and stretching his back. Despite the new talent, he was still going to be sore tomorrow.

"Yeah," Ares agreed, shouldering his ax as he stared up at the sky before looking back to Percy. "It's been a while since I fought someone who could match my skill." He flashed a wicked grin, then turned to walk back inside, expecting Percy to follow. With a last look at the sky, he trailed Ares just as the first drop of rain fell.

* * *

Alcatraz provided pretty nice accommodations, Percy had to admit, even though it was a prison. A couple hours ago Ares led him up several floors to his "humble abode" as he'd put it. Not so humble, in reality; he _was _a god. The walls were stone, but the ground was made up a dark, hard wood. Most of the furniture was black, with accents of red and burnt orange and various other dark colors. The mood was that of an expensive bachelor pad, except maybe a little more evil-feeling. Percy liked it.

Currently, they sat facing a roaring fire. Outside the wind howled and blew the rain in diagonal sheets against the windows. Percy didn't mind the rain but felt much more comfortable inside than out, especially with so many gods still looking to kill him just for being him. His glass of scotch on the rocks was gone and badly wanted another. As soon as he thought it, the glass refilled from the bottom up; he smirked. It'd be nice to be a god. As he sipped the drink, Ares spoke for the first time in over thirty minutes.

"Our first line of business is going to be figuring out which gods we can get—and want—on our side for this war."

"Right," Percy agreed, taking another gulp. "I was thinking…definitely Hades. Maybe Hephaestus, since he could supply us with some good weapons and strategy."

"Yes, they're probably the two strongest gods we'd want fighting with us. Aphrodite will help," Ares gave a smirk. "She owes me for all those long nights when she wanted the company of a _real_ man. She'd never fight against me anyway, since I know she's in love with me. At least a little bit. However… we need to think about getting some minor gods, too. They're not as powerful but it'll be easy to persuade them with the promise of more power, and there's strength in numbers. They can also do some of the smaller jobs; the ones no less important, but that Hades and Hephaestus and I would have no business with, since we'd be otherwise occupied. Mostly, they can provide a strong force regarding stealth warfare, since they are less easily noticed."

Percy just nodded along with Ares' words. It made sense, although he really had no idea who most of the minor gods were. "What about Apollo? Hermes? Artemis?" he said absentmindedly. Artemis might join Zeus and Athena, but to have Apollo and Hermes would help them a lot.

"Artemis would side with Zeus," Ares answered, confirming Percy's thoughts, "and Apollo would stay with his twin, so both of them are out. Hermes, however… I'd nearly forgotten about him. He could be an important ally, although I wonder if he'll want to take any side. I might send you to persuade him… and maybe…" Ares trailed off and sat silently, staring into fire, obviously deep in thought. Percy didn't interject, instead waiting. It was always best not to push a god.

After ten minutes though, Percy's impatience got the better of him and he thought Ares wouldn't say anything more without provocation, so hesitantly, he said, "Maybe…what?"

Ares glanced up at him, blinking once. "Nothing."

Percy glared at the god, rolling his eyes. "Come on, Ares. I'm not retarded. If it's going to help us out, I'll do what needs to be done. You should know that about me by now."

Sighing, Ares stared at Percy, seeming to decide something. "Fine. But it might cost you."

* * *

It had been a long time since Annabeth was last here, and unable to control her thoughts, found herself thinking of when she was here with Percy, and the River Styx, and—

"Annabeth!" Thalia hissed, her tone sharp and reprimanding as she grabbed Annabeth's wrist and yanked her forward. "I don't know about you, but I don't particularly care to linger," she continued as they passed by the souls of the dead, surrounded on all sides, above and below. The sensation was eerie and the quiet hung heavy in the air. Annabeth blinked once, slowly, gazing around hazily. She felt a little drugged, lately, and a small smile graced her lips as she reached out a lazy hand to one of the souls. Her fingers brushed it and went through it at the same time. It was icy cold, refreshing. How death might be…

"Anna," Thalia said, more calmly, and she turned to face her friend.

Annabeth looked more than lost, and it sickened Thalia to see her walking and talking as if everything was okay when it was clear that her best friend was breaking in every way. All because of that stupid, good-for-nothing son of Poseidon. They'd never really gotten along all that well, and now Thalia downright couldn't stand him. He was abandoning Annabeth when she needed him most, and that was that. Obviously all Annabeth could do was think about him, and it seemed that everywhere they went, some memory arose and Thalia could do nothing to stop it, could only distract. The pure misery she saw Annabeth experience was just one more reason she was thankful she'd joined Artemis' Hunters. Boys just caused trouble, and who was to say a group of girls such as theirs couldn't pleasure each other just as well? Thalia gave the tiniest smirk before bringing herself back to the present.

"When this war is over, everything will be fine, with you and Percy," Thalia said softly, hugging her friend. She didn't miss the wince at Percy's name. "I promise. You guys were made for each other. And in the mean time, I think you should do your best to forget him and focus on the issues we're dealing with now. Maybe you'll even meet someone else."

"_That_ is not going to happen," Annabeth scoffed. Of course Annabeth would be stubborn about Percy Jackson, even through her loneliness. Some things never changed. "I'm sorry I've been so…out of it. I really can't help it. I wish I could."

Hades' throne room wasn't far.

"I know. You need a good hard drink after we get out of here, I think. You up for that?"

"Sure," Annabeth replied with a smile that was weak but at least met her eyes.

"Hello, girlies."

Annabeth and Thalia jumped and swiveled around hastily to face the source of that low, resonant voice. Annabeth could feel her heart pounding in her throat, and she placed a hand there as if to calm it. She was sure Hades could hear it; he was the god of the dead, and it made sense that he would be able to aptly sense their vitality.

"Hades," Thalia croaked, and Annabeth knew Thalia had been as startled as she. They hastily knelt before the god, although Annabeth couldn't help peeking up to try and gauge the god's expression.

Hades was tall. Extremely tall. He was larger-than-human, so altogether he was bigger than any normal sized man, but even for that scale his height was disconcerting. Annabeth could tell he hid muscle underneath the black shirt, blazer, and dress pants, and he was much more handsome than she remembered him. It had been many years since she'd seen the god, but he certainly seemed to have undergone a change in style. His hair was a dark black-brown that had a blue tint to it, and it was slicked back. He looked fairly dashing, honestly, especially with his unshaven five-o-clock shadow and chiseled jaw. Annabeth looked back down to clear her head. Damn.

"Oh, please, rise," Hades said with mock-joviality; his voice made Annabeth shiver. It was deep and had the texture of metal scraping across gravel, fitting for a god who resided underground, and every syllable he spoke resounded through her very soul. "What can I help you two fine ladies with at this hour? You do know it's nearly two in the morning. What if I'd been sleeping?" The god laughed at some untold joke, loud and dark, and Annabeth fought the urge to go cower in a corner.

"Well, see," Thalia started, and her voice was meeker than Annabeth had ever heard it before. "We've come to ask—to ask you to join us. I mean, our parents. Zeus and Athena. In this war."

"Excuse me?"

"She said, Zeus and Athena want you on their si—"

"I heard what she said just fine," Hades snapped, and Annabeth flinched. Maybe this had been a bad idea from the start. Maybe Thalia shouldn't have just said right away what they came for. Maybe if Percy was there…

"They really need your help," Thalia continued; her voice had adopted a sort of pleading desperation. "The war will never end if one side doesn't overpower another, and—"

"I find it quite…amusing," Hades said quietly as he cut off Thalia, "that you presumed I would say yes."

"…Well…won't you?" Thalia managed to squeak out.

Hades gave one short, threatening laugh and took a step closer to the young women before him, not bothering to hide his contempt. "I would _never_ join your father, you stupid girl," he directed at Thalia before turning to Annabeth. "And your mother is overly presumptuous of her own wisdom and skill and deserves a fate far worse than what's in store for her. I suggest you get the hell out of my home, now. Pun intended."

Thalia and Annabeth stood frozen long enough that Hades came right up to them and leaned down so he was eye level. Annabeth shook from fear. "I don't want to tell you again. And do not come back. Tell your parents…tell them I say hi." Hades gave a menacing grin as he lifted Thalia and Annabeth and tossed them toward the way out, then turned and walked from the room without a glance backward.

Annabeth struggled to regain her breath as she got to her feet, helping Thalia. "That was awful," Annabeth groaned. Her legs continued to shake. "My mom is going to be so mad…"

"Let's just get the fuck out of here," said Thalia tersely.

"Right," Annabeth agreed. She was silent the rest of the way up to ground level, and Thalia didn't question it. They were both thinking of what Hades could possibly know about what was in store for Athena.


	3. In Dreams

**Carrion**

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Chapter III – In Dreams

* * *

Hazy light filtered through the thick, warped glass of the window, and it took Percy a moment to remember where he was. The sensation was not new to him; there were too many times to count when he'd woken up in an unfamiliar place and the uncomfortable—albeit short-lived—feeling of shock that came with it had washed over him before the remembrance. His dream...

Percy rubbed a hand over his face as though to rid himself the distress that lay over him, heavy and incapacitating to the rest of his emotions. Thoughts of Annabeth just wouldn't leave him alone, even in sleep, a fact that frustrated him and never failed to leave him reeling in its wake. Last night's had been the worst yet, and if his history told him anything, it was that his dreams were almost always significant and foreboding of something to come, and that he'd do well not to ignore him. This knowledge made him increasingly uneasy with each night that passed, for while some dreams were harmless (all too satisfying in sleep, however painful they were to wake from) others told of less pleasant things.

_He watched as she spun joyfully, laughing, and he smiled at the carefree melody that tumbled from her glorious mouth. This was the way it should be. Sunlight bathed her golden hair in radiant light and her gray eyes seemed brighter, sparkling with her wit and happiness and—_

"_Come and get me, Percy," she called out to him, teasing as she took a slow step backwards through the tall, flowered grass of the meadow that seemed to go on for miles around them. "Catch me if you can!"_

_He grinned and took her bait, weaving after her, lessening his speed to lengthen their little game as his fingers grasped at her waist again and again until he'd had enough. They fell together to the ground, breathless and flushed and he leaned over her, bracing himself with his arms on either side of her head._

"_Caught you," he murmured predatorily into her ear, and she closed her eyes to his tantalizing proximity for just a moment. He trailed his lips lightly down her jaw to her throat, missing the way her lips curved into a smirk until—_

"_Only because I let you."_

_Percy lifted his head and raised his eyebrows at her infuriatingly smug expression. "I was going easy on you," he shrugged, catching her wrists with his hands and pinning them over her head. He lowered his face and Annabeth's lips parted expectantly but he halted just centimeters from her, his own lips curling in satisfaction at his hold on her. "Don't forget...I'll never let you get too far away." _

_He waited long enough to see Annabeth's easy smile, then sealed his mouth to hers in a heated kiss. She ran her tongue along his bottom lip in a way that made him want more, want _everything_, and he slid his tongue over hers in his rising passion, breaking his hold on her arms to tightly thread his fingers through her sun-kissed tresses. Unable to help himself he pressed his body to hers and she responded in kind, pulling him closer with her slender fingers on his shoulders. His breath caught as she rolled her hips up against his and he stilled momentarily, his arousal apparent through his pants._

"_Want something?" Annabeth breathed against his lips, her eyes intense with a lust that told him that whatever he wanted, she wanted just as badly._

"_Gods, _yes_," he groaned, slipping his hand beneath her shirt and running his fingers over her smooth skin, halting when he noticed— "You're not wearing a bra," he noted appreciatively, his voice low and primal and full of this strong desire that consumed them both. Not caring to wait for a response, he pulled back enough to lift her shirt over her head and toss it into the surrounding grass, indifferent as to whether they ever found it again. Percy paused to let his eyes wander over this body that never ceased to amaze him in its perfection; lightly tanned and unblemished skin, toned stomach, round and perky breasts that were not too small and not too big, delicate-looking shoulders and arms that hid her skillful strength...and finally, her face, flushed from exertion and arousal, her lips slightly swollen from kissing and her eyes mesmerizing as always. "Beautiful," he whispered._

_Just as the words left his mouth, a resounding _crack_ filled the air, but it wasn't thunder; an unearthly shuddering came from beneath them, like an earthquake in magnitude but somehow more menacing, and then the ground began to split, and he grabbed Annabeth's arm to pull her to safety. The sky had turned an ominous gray within seconds and the fear in Annabeth's eyes mirrored his own._

"_Percy, wha—"_

_Her anguished voice was drowned out by a deafening crash, as though the very sky had shattered into a million pieces, and then from the giant, endlessly-deep rift in the earth there arose the darkness itself, its shape indescribable and horrible at once. Annabeth screamed as the shadow-creature advanced on them, and looking through it, Percy saw the world to be shriveled and burnt and scarred past recognition, and he felt as though there was no hope left... but he turned to Annabeth, saw her alarm, and held her tightly with his free arm as he drew Riptide from his pocket._

_It was to no avail; slash and stab though he might, the sword fell through the shade like it was air, and he felt terror of his own begin to rise in his throat when he realized all they could do was back away. And so they ran, and he gripped Annabeth's hand like there was nothing else in the world to hold on to, but it was not enough, and he felt the pull as the darkness slipped over her and she began to fade, her vibrant colors sliding to black. The shadow engulfed her completely and then they both were gone, back into the ground from which all things evil were spawned._

_He opened his mouth in despair but no sound came out, and he wanted to cry but no tears would come, and all he could do was sink to his knees in the dirt and stare, alone._

Water. He needed water. He realized his throat was unbearably dry due to his profuse sweating and apparent hangover now that he was awake enough to be aware of himself, so he slowly rose from his sweaty sheets and crossed the room to the sink, bending over to gulp the steady stream of cool water from the faucet. This calmed him somewhat, though his legs continued to shake. After he'd had his fill of the clear liquid, he sat on the edge of his bed, his face in his hands. In none of his dreams so far had Annabeth been truly taken from him...until that last one. It was a bad sign, to say the least, but he didn't have the slightest idea of what to do.

Previously when he'd had some disconcerting dream, Annabeth was always _with_ him, or close enough to not provide any issue, and then they figured out what it meant and what to do together. That was no longer the case, and he was more unsettled than ever. How was he supposed to save her if they weren't even fighting together, let alone dating or whatever the hell their relationship was now? The thought made his chest ache, and he tugged at his hair, frustrated at his apparent helplessness.

Sitting listlessly in a room that wasn't even his own was not going to help him any, he eventually decided, and he forced himself up once more and got dressed. The dream had been disturbing, yes, but that didn't mean he fell apart like some weak pansy, which he most certainly was not. He knew Annabeth wouldn't want him to worry. Not that that had ever stopped him, especially not now, and he let out a small, aggravated huff of breath, wishing more than anything that she was just _here_, by his side like she was supposed to be, with her arms around him and lips on his and—

"Oh look, the demi-god is awake. Finally," Ares said flatly from the doorway. Percy turned, his increasingly heated thoughts interrupted, to find the god looking relatively irritated, and hastened to shove his own mood where it wouldn't bother him; this was no time for a clash between both of their highly volatile tempers.

"Did you need something?" Percy sighed, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms, trying to appear at least a little contrite for sleeping so late.

Ares gave him a pointed look. "There isn't time to waste doing nothing. We both know what needs to be done and the sooner it gets done, the better. I think you should leave today."

"_Today?_" It was only yesterday that they'd made the loose outlines of a plan, and Percy had barely had any time to think over what he was going to be doing; he had prepared for at least a couple of days to formulate exactly what was to happen, and then maybe an extra day to ready himself, mentally and physically. But he supposed Ares was right; the other gods were not going to wait around for him to make his tactical moves, and at nineteen he didn't want the god in front of him to think he needed to be coddled in any way. Besides...there wasn't anything else that truly had to happen before he left. He knew what was required of him and the others involved, and there was no use for any true plan given the amount of variables, both predicted and unseen, that he was sure to encounter. No, today was as good as any day, and the sooner he got it through his head that this was _war_ and things had to _get done_, the better off he'd be. "I mean...okay. Today. Do I need anything really, other than Riptide?"

Ares shrugged. "That's up to you. You've been there more recently than I have; I don't make a habit of visiting." The god gave a sardonic smile. "In any case, maybe bring some smaller, portable weapons that you can hide as well. And of course _that_." He tilted his chin toward their so-called bargaining chip, and Percy tried not to roll his eyes as he nodded once, thinking back to the night before as he began mentally preparing himself for his mission.

_The fire crackled as Percy waited for Ares to continue, but the god clearly wanted to finish his drink first, so he sat back in his chair, sighing inaudibly. It seemed as though the war god knew he wouldn't like whatever the idea was, but as he tried to figure it out, Percy could not think of anything he wouldn't do for this cause. Self-preservation was usually at the top of his list, but that did not worry him; he was confident that he was not expendable to the god, at least not yet, so his own life was not at stake. Possibly Annabeth's, then, but Percy didn't find that likely either, as Ares didn't know the extent of his relationship with her, if he knew anything at all. It wasn't like the god had been all that present in his life thus far. He shut his eyes and wearily rubbed a hand over them, wishing again that he could merely fall asleep and only wake up once everything was all over, even if he woke up to destruction. But such thoughts did him no good—they were cowardly, and world obliteration was an unacceptable outcome. Any outcome that threatened Annabeth's existence was something he'd fight against, and if he happened to save the rest of humanity along the way, so be it. _

_He lifted his own heavy glass of scotch and took a sip, then two. The drink was gone quickly; Ares had good taste in liquor, and once more, it refilled itself. If he wasn't careful he was going to end up drunk—he'd already finished three full glasses. Impatient, he glanced at Ares, whose fiery onyx eyes were fixed on the fire, but still Percy said nothing to interrupt. Ares would tell him. Although the god had taken him in, the war was more important to him than anything and Percy's own discomfort could be of no issue to either of them. _

_Brows furrowing, Percy ran a hand through his hair as he thought back to what they'd been speaking of...Hermes. Ares said he might send Percy to persuade him but then he'd trailed off. Despite Percy's insistence on an answer, they were sitting in silence once more, because Ares evidently believed Percy would not want to carry out whatever he had in mind. It did not seem as though Hermes himself was the problem or the cause for Ares' speculation; no, there was something else, possibly connected to Hermes for Percy did not know what else could have prompted the god's train of thought._

_After another several minutes, Percy couldn't take the silence. His ADHD was kicking in and he needed to say, or do, something before he got up and started pacing or just started throwing things. "Spit it out already!" he blurted, more aggravated by the utter _lack_ of conversation than he'd realized._

_Ares raised an eyebrow. "Calm yourself. Sometimes I forget...how impatient you mortals can be. I needed to thoroughly think it through before I came to some form of conclusion that I could share with you; regardless, it doesn't matter why I took so _relatively_ long, for I owe you no explanation. In any case... it would be most prudent if you traveled to Elysium and gained the assistance of Luke Castellan and the rest of the dead to form the base of our army."_

_Unable to help himself, Percy's jaw dropped, and his glass nearly slipped from his fingers. He set it down, staring blankly at a space past Ares' head on the wall. _Luke Castellan._ Honestly, he was surprised to find lingering resentment after all this time, primarily because of Annabeth; that should have gone away by now, especially since the guy was _dead_. What Ares was suggesting was impossible. If he even got as far as Elysium just to speak with Luke, it wasn't like Hades would let him march out of the Underworld with a legion of dead past-soldiers behind him; that in itself meant he'd first need to convince Hades to join him, a feat on its own, and even getting an audience with the god was sure to be difficult in these times. Probably, he'd need to find Nico, something he'd been intending on doing anyway ever since he'd learned of the possibility to bring his father back. But…_

_Percy sighed, torn, rubbing his temples to sooth the oncoming headache. It didn't work. Ares wanted him to get Luke… and there was little to no chance that Hades would allow for him to both utilize some dead army as well as get his father back, and if that was the case, then he would have to sacrifice one to gain the other. The question was whether he was willing to set aside his personal goals for the greater good, something he'd done time and time again but that he now no longer felt so obligated to do._

_To even convince Hades to consent to this seemed an unattainable goal, one that he, a mere demi-god who had pissed off a fair number of gods in the past, was sure he would never accomplish. "How the hell is _that_ supposed to happen," he finally said, so quiet he wasn't sure if Ares would hear him._

"_Easy—make him see he has the most to gain by joining us, and then getting Luke and the rest of them won't be a problem." Ares apparently _had_ heard him, and looked all too comfortable in his current position, slumped arrogantly against the back of his chair as he swiveled his wrist, swirling the liquid within the glass he held. The ice clinked against the sides and Percy watched, almost transfixed by the amber liquor that glided over the cubes and sloshed up toward the rim, threatening to spill over, but it never did._

"_...Right," Percy deadpanned pointedly, shaking his head. There was just no way. The only god who had ever done more than tolerate him was his father—until now, and Ares did not exactly count. Hades was too proud to join them. The only card Percy could use to their favor was the god's known resentment toward Zeus. Unbidden, he thought all the way back to when he'd been suspected as the lightning thief, and remembered Hades' fervent desire to usurp Zeus' power. Hades had been proud, too, in the battle against Kronos. He would not have changed much, Percy knew, but he almost didn't want to give the god a chance for revenge on his brother, for he might succeed where Ares would acquiesce, and then the war would never end._

"_You doubt?" Ares inquired softly, his eyes piercing as he gazed right at Percy. "You shouldn't. Think about it. He will never join Zeus; their peace up until this point has been forced by a sort-of…majority rule. This war has given him the chance to fight against Zeus, one way or another. With us, he would gain retribution and recognition merely by aligning himself. No one would pay him any attention on his own, because once we ensure two definitive sides, any god on his own is no real threat and will be forgotten. Hades would never allow that. And then… Hades is after power, yes, but he knows that no god may truly rule all the others. However, if our side prevails—which it will—he would take Zeus' position, and he's wanted that from the beginning of time._

"_Hades likes control. He would, naturally, as god of the dead—whereas I may affect wars, and Zeus may change the weather at whim, Hades decides every mortal's fate, more or less, and that cannot be ignored. That said, he exalts items that both heighten his control and illuminate his worth as a god: Zeus's lightning bolt, for instance, or his hold on Persephone. Which is why _you_, Percy Jackson, will offer him _this_, as something extra to sway him."_

_From beside the chair, Ares lifted a large, elegant glistening sword that Percy had only just noticed. Dancing firelight glinted off its edges and the hilt was intricately patterned with indentures to its gold material. The weapon was beautiful in its fatality, for despite its glamour, Percy knew it would be flawless in use. It was meant to be feared, and its outward appearance only hinted at its efficiency._

"_The sword of Achilles," Ares said reverently, his voice only just above a whisper as his eyes ran down the length of the adamantine armament. "Imbibed with nymph magic so the blade never wears or rusts, made to absorb the blood it bites to strengthen its user. He who wields this will never fall in battle. Hades would not need it...but he would _want_ it, because none would dare cross him then. Even Zeus." Ares gave a dark smirk. "Like I, Hades knows not to try and rule us all. It would never work. But he will take what he has the possibility to acquire, provided he has the means."_

_Percy did not bother to mask his blatantly dubious expression. "No offense...but I doubt some _sword_ is going to be enough to convince Hades to give us all this help. There has got to be something better."_

_The god's face darkened, and he didn't attempt to hide the anger in his tone. "If it's not enough, so be it: you can improvise once you're there, and if you never escape, well, it's not my neck on the line anyway." His words were a not-too-subtle reminder to Percy that Ares was most certainly _not_ the fatherly figure Poseidon had been, and he would do well to remember it._

"_You can't honestly believe that the sword would be enough?" Percy pressed incredulously, all inhibitions about crossing lines with the god gone from his mind. His curiosity tended to the get the best of him at the worst of times, but at least he had some consistency with it._

_Ares glared openly at the insolent demi-god before him. Rarely in all his existence had anyone dared question his direction and lived to tell about it; in fact, now that he thought back, he was fairly sure _none_ had lived. Percy Jackson was a lucky bastard, and Ares would make sure that the young man would pay later. "I believe that our argument alone will be enough to sway Hades toward our alliance, especially since it provides him the chance to go against Zeus. The sword is merely that extra push over the edge. That is enough on the subject; you will not speak to me in such a manner again."_

"_I'll talk however I want," Percy muttered under his breath, and within seconds found Ares' iron grip around his throat, lifting him from his seat and into the air, where the tips of his toes just barely brushed the ground from the height at which Ares held him. Percy did not even attempt to struggle, instead focusing his attention on sucking in as much oxygen as he could with the god's hand pushing hard against his windpipe._

"_You are not a god, and you are not my son, in any real sense of the word. You're only alive now because of my good graces and the fact that it seems I need your wretched help to gain the upper hand in this war. Do not forget that your life depends on _me_," Ares growled angrily, his eyes dark and burning with wrath and power, and after another second he dropped Percy to the floor and walked out of the room. He did not return._

_Percy instantly started coughing, hard, choking on the sudden abundance of air as he rubbed his bruised throat, his eyes watering at the pain in his esophagus. "Fuck," he gasped as he finally got a smooth gulp of oxygen down to his lungs. Shaking too uncontrollably to support his own weight, he collapsed onto his back, coughing a few more times to fully appease his battered windpipe. He knew he was pushing his limits with his rude retorts but had not expected such a violent reaction. In hindsight, he shouldn't have been surprised; he already had proof that the god was easily angered, much like himself, and Ares was the god of _war_. Violence was probably second nature. Percy continued to run his fingers over his neck as though trying to feel for the bruise that was sure to appear by morning._

_Eventually he pushed himself off the ground and back into his chair, and he immediately reached for his glass of scotch, hazily watching it refill itself before downing one glass, then two, then more…the world tilted with him when he finally passed out on his bed a couple rooms down into a deep but fitful sleep._

"Where can I find weapons?" Percy asked wearily just as Ares made to leave.

"Two floors lower, down the hall to the right, last door on the right," Ares replied without turning around and left just as quickly as he'd appeared, although Percy was pleased to note there didn't seem to be too much lingering animosity from the night before; the tension was more awkward than anything else.

Percy took the sword of Achilles in his hand, eyeing the blade with momentary distaste before wrapping it in the cloth Ares had supplied and exiting the room, not caring to look back.

It was calming to be out of Ares' presence, especially since Percy knew he wouldn't be seeing the god again for some time. Before heading to the known entrance to the Underworld, he was going to try and find Nico; he figured everything would go a lot more smoothly if he entered Hades' domain with the god's only son rather than by forced access. Thinking back, he hadn't seen Nico in years, but if the demi-god was anything like he'd been, Percy had a few good guesses as to where to find him, and if he was right, it meant a trip to Las Vegas. Percy was only half god, and the thought of spending some time in the city of sin was seriously enticing to at least the human side of him (he wasn't really sure how much gods liked that kind of gambling, but he supposed they should); besides, these days he'd give anything to lose himself for a night or two.

With just a light push, the door to Ares' personal armory swung open without a sound, and Percy gave himself just a moment to revel in the fact that he had full access to such an elite wealth of weaponry. "Damn," he said under this breath, walking right up to a sleek sniper and running a finger over the scope. All the hours of Call of Duty he'd clocked in on the Xbox over the years had probably amplified the strong urge to try out every single gun in the room, but the urge was a little shocking at first.

One wall consisted entirely of various guns, including one large bazooka and a miniscule pistol. On the adjacent wall there hung knives and swords, and Percy picked out three, extremely sharp knives of a small size to bring with him. There were axes and maces, javelins, spears, bombs, ropes and chains...anything he could think of, he saw somewhere in the room. It was a soldier's candy shop. Reaching up, he lifted and pocketed several tiny bombs that triggered a much more effective explosion than one would expect from such minute encasing. Finally, because he could, Percy grabbed the most exquisite and deadly looking shotgun he'd ever seen; he probably wouldn't be slugging the thing with him into the Underworld, but Ares had allowed him in and he really _wanted_ it.

Knowing he'd delayed leaving long enough, Percy shot a last longing look at all the weapons and shut the door behind him as he exited the room and made his way through the prison till he was outside standing next to the Durango he'd rented. Nevada wasn't so far from California, so he figured he'd drive instead of waste the money on expensive plane tickets. Just as he turned the car on, he realized he might even have Nico's number in his phone, and yanked his Blackberry from his pocket to scroll through his contacts...and there it was, Nico's name and number. He should have thought of it a while back, but he had so much on his mind lately that there was no point dwelling on his own foolishness. Suddenly impatient, he called the number and held the phone to his ear, tapping his foot in time with the rings.

"_Hel—hello?"_ A male voice slurred from the other end, and a female's high-pitched giggle sounded afterwards. Percy rolled his eyes.

"Nico? It's Percy."

"_Percy? Ohhh, Percy. Man, this is—" _More giggling, then...was that a moan? _"This is kind of a bad time, yeah, so,"_ Nico attempted to continue, and then the line went dead.

"Fuck," Percy said into his phone anyway, then put it down in the cup holder. Typical Nico; it was only one o'clock in the afternoon. From the sound of it, Nico was definitely in Vegas and _definitely_ enjoying himself. Sighing, Percy turned on the radio and twisted the dial until some bass-heavy techno blasted through the speakers, and then pulled out of the parking lot and sped off.

* * *

_Hades laughed, and the sound filled the dark room; it wasn't large but it felt spacious anyway, as the ceiling reached some height thousands of feet above her head, and she dimly noted that the walls were covered with mosaics that glinted brilliantly in the dim light, though she couldn't quite make out what they depicted. A more pressing matter was why, exactly, she was back in what seemed to be the Underworld with the last god she wanted to see. With some effort she pushed herself to her hands and knees and scanned the room for Hades, but could not find him, which unsettled her. There was, however, another body lying limp in the opposite corner. It was highly possible that the other person was not a friend to her, but curiosity overtook any trepidation she felt and she crawled over to the still figure, wondering if he or she or it was alive._

_A quick, strong hand grabbed Annabeth's wrist before she knew what had happened, and a scream died in her throat as she recognized the face that was now turned toward her and was, from what she could see, very much _not_ alive._

"_Why are you still here?" Percy's hoarse voice rasped through the dank air, and she ignored his bruising grip on her arm as she took in his appearance. His skin was almost translucent, and had a dead, gray tint to it. His eyes were entirely black, his hair matted and sweaty, and she knew his body was depleted of blood. He was talking and solid and clearly functioning, but he wasn't alive—maybe undead was the right word, and a cold dread spread through her, robbing her of any warmth she'd had._

"_Wh—what?" Annabeth managed, and she blinked back unshed tears. There was no use crying over something she didn't yet understand, but just the sight of him after so long apart...she thought she'd never leave this room._

"Why_ are you _still here_?" Percy said again, louder and more angrily, and his black eyes seemed to impossibly darken; Annabeth felt the anger rise, felt the tension in the air change, but she would not let it frighten her. This was Percy, and she'd promised herself one lonely night that the next time she saw him, she wouldn't let him out of her sight again. They weren't supposed to be apart, and the distance had not been good for her. _Nor for him_, she thought wryly with a hint of sadness, then shook her head; it was probably the worst time for her wit._

"_I don't know what you mean," she whispered, inching closer to him until there was barely any space left between them, she on her hands and knees and he now leaning against the wall._

"_I...I made the deal. You should be gone by now. I'm here, so you shouldn't be." Percy's voice shook with fury, but Annabeth knew that wherever this rage came from, it wasn't directed at her. _

_She raised a hand to his face, just barely suppressing the wince as she felt his icy skin. Percy flinched from her touch, as though no one had ever touched him in such a way. Clenching her teeth and pushing away the hurt, she brushed his tangled hair from his eyes and placed her hand on his dirty, slightly sunken cheek. "No one's keeping me here," she said, frowning. She wasn't sure how she knew it—rather, she could sense it, could tell that should she truly desire to leave, she would be able to without hindrance._

_Percy blinked once, shock showing on his face through the fury. "But he said...said you would be gone as soon as you wanted. If he lied—"_

_Annabeth pressed her hand over his mouth, stopping the words as she leaned closer, staring into his eyes desperately, searching them for some of their old warmth. She found none. "What did you do?" she said quietly, not bothering to mask the tremble in her voice, the deep concern that held too many emotions for her to entirely contain._

"_Nothing," Percy muttered, looking down at the stone floor, then at his hand around her wrist. He let go, his brow furrowing as he flexed his fingers once, twice. "Nothing," he said again._

"_Tell me," Annabeth begged, sitting back on her heels and bringing her free hand up to his other cheek, forcing him to look at her. Something terrible had happened, something irreversible, but as much as she wanted to remain blissfully ignorant of whatever consequences she would have to suffer, she knew she needed to know._

"_It doesn't matter," Percy said harshly, and he stood abruptly. Annabeth's hands fell to her lap. "You couldn't change anything about it. I wouldn't want you to. It's my fate," he said, turning to look at her. _

_His eyes were hard, resigned, too dark for her to understand the intent behind them any longer, and it felt like the hand around her wrist was now clenched tightly around her heart, suffocating her with an awful, aching pain that reeked of despair and that she knew she would never escape. "Percy..." she choked out, the first tears falling in soft drops as she looked up at him, and gods, more than anything, she wanted to die. Anything to quench this helpless agony that was drowning her and death seemed the only way out._

"_He's right," Hades said mirthfully from behind her, and she whirled around to face the smirking god. "How interesting that you _are_ still here, though. No, Percy, I did not break our deal. If you recall, I said she would be gone as soon as she pleased. Apparently she doesn't want to be gone, and so she is not." The god's mocking smile widened, and Annabeth tugged at her hair, desperate for some other sort of pain. "Annabeth, darling, are you _sure _you want to die? Seems a waste, to me," Hades murmured, reaching out to run a strand of Annabeth's hair between his fingers._

_Within seconds Percy stood in front of her, arms crossed. "No. That's not happening."_

"_Why should I deny the lady what she wants? I can sense these things, Percy. Ask her."_

_Percy turned to Annabeth, the question dying on his lips momentarily before his hands gripped her shoulders tightly, and he looked like he might shake her. "It's not true. That's not how things are supposed to go. Right Annabeth? You wouldn't..."_

"_I've lost you," she said, looking up at him as her tears streaked her dusty cheeks._

"_You're not going to die!" Percy shouted, and Annabeth took a step back. Not fast enough, however, and Percy's hand came down against her cheek, hard. He shoved her back without another glance and then looked to Hades. "Get her out. I don't care what she wants. She's not staying here."_

Annabeth woke with a start and realized she was lying motionless in her hotel bed with tears streaming down her cheeks. She'd never woken up crying before.

With a shaky breath, she leaned up on her elbows and saw Thalia on the opposite bed, still fast asleep, curled up in fetal position with her blankets wrapped tightly around her; Annabeth couldn't help but smile at the sight of her friend, so brave and abrasive in daylight, appearing so small and vulnerable. It was almost disturbing, like she was looking at a different person. Thalia's expression was peaceful and a bit comical—her mouth was open just slightly so that she let out the faintest of snores. Annabeth slumped back down onto her pillow and ran her hands over her face, wiping away the tears and breathing deeply to calm herself. It had been a horrible dream, too real to be ignored, and she knew it told of things yet to come. When, where, and how were of course unanswered, but that it was an inevitability left her feeling helpless and hopeless.

Unable to lie still in bed any longer, Annabeth pushed aside the crisp white sheets and slid out of bed, grabbing herself a tall glass of water and draining it before she stripped down for a hot shower. She stepped gingerly underneath the stream of water, sighing contentedly as it washed away the remains of her tears and drenched her thoroughly; she always felt dirty, lately, and it was a relief to shed some of the grime, if only the physical. Showering alone was not something she enjoyed anymore, though, and she felt Percy's absence so strongly in moments like these that it was crippling, and Annabeth could not stop the fresh tears that fell through the water as she hugged herself, trying to hold herself together as best she could.

She'd had nightmares nearly every night since they had visited Hades, but those prior to the most recent had been dim and hazy, and she never remembered them so she'd paid them no attention. The Underworld did not necessarily frighten her in a typical manner; in fact, she found the general atmosphere to be morbidly calming. No, it was more the possibility that once you were dead, there was no going back, no escape, and she was adverse to anything that did not give her a choice. Annabeth shuddered once, closing her eyes tight and then opening them to clear the images of dead-but-not-dead Percy from her mind. It didn't work, and she tried to focus on the gray tile in front of her, eventually succeeding as she counted the speckles on the material. Thalia thought she was breaking down completely, but it wasn't true. Despite the somewhat-desperate measures she took to empty her mind, she was still a smart, functioning demi-god and was more than helpful to Thalia when her aid was necessary.

Their trip to the Underworld had not gone well, but Annabeth never really expected differently; it was well known to all that Zeus and Hades couldn't get along, and Hades would sooner attack Zeus than join him. Athena wanted her to try, probably for Zeus's sake, but the goddess must have known it was a lost cause—she was goddess of wisdom, after all. Now that they'd failed to acquire Hades, she wondered what would be next on their sure-to-be-long task list. Certainly the minor gods were of some importance, but Annabeth figured her mother and Zeus wanted as many major gods on their side as possible. Ares would be an imperative asset, as would Hera, Hermes, Hephaestus, Apollo... Artemis's allegiance was ensured because of Thalia, so Apollo's probably would be as well. Ares was a bit of a loose cannon, and he didn't have a great history with Athena. As far as Annabeth was concerned, Aphrodite was unimportant and rather irrelevant to the cause. Petty goddesses with little intelligence had no place with them.

Sick of thinking about tactics and possible allies, Annabeth quickly finished rinsing her body and turned off the water to hear Thalia up and preparing a pot of coffee, which sounded delicious and was much needed. Shivering in the cool air, she toweled herself dry and stepped back into her sweatpants and baggy tee-shirt before emerging from the bathroom.

"Mornin'," Thalia mumbled from the small kitchen area of their hotel room.

Annabeth gave a noncommittal response.

"Sleep well?" Thalia asked in a strange tone, and Annabeth thought she heard something like sarcasm in her friend's voice.

"Fine," Annabeth said brusquely as she grabbed herself a mug and leaned against the countertop, staring determinedly out the window on the far wall. The city of Boston was just waking up; it was early on a Saturday, and few cars crowded the narrow streets at such a premature hour. Sunlight glinted low against the buildings, slowly rising.

"Mmhm. You were doing quite a bit of tossing and turni—"

"Drop it," warned Annabeth with a glare, far past caring exactly how insufferable she was acting lately. Thalia just sighed and shrugged, piling her grown-out black hair into a messy bun on the top of her head just as the coffee finished brewing.

"We should probably check in with the 'rents soon about what to tackle next," Annabeth said in an attempt to lighten the mood. She poured her coffee and sipped it tentatively, wrinkling her nose when she realized there was no cream. Thalia drank hers black, but Annabeth notoriously took her coffee with ample amounts of cream and sometimes sugar depending on how sweet she wanted it.

Thalia snorted. "You mean _who_. It's all about which gods we get on our side. No real strategy involved. It's kind of pathetic, if you think about it; here you have a bunch of supposedly all-powerful beings, but they're too scared to try anything on their own so they give themselves a false sense of security by teaming up with others. There's no skill, no real test of power, even! Pathetic," she said again, shaking her head and taking a large gulp of black coffee.

"You're the one who was so damn adamant about sticking with Zeus and Athena's decision," Annabeth pointed out, gesturing with her coffee mug.

"Well, yeah," Thalia conceded. "It was more prudent to go along with it; it ends better for us, and for everyone else, because there's no way they won't come out victorious."

"Glad you're so confident," Annabeth said dryly before taking another delicate, distasteful sip of her bland and bitter drink. "We know Hades won't help us out—what happens when Ares won't either? Or Hephaestus? What if no one else will join us, and they all team up against Zeus? Clearly there was a fair amount of animosity between the gods as it is. I'd say most won't be too keen to hold hands and work together, even as a means to an end, Thal."

Thalia gave her an exasperated look as she set her mug down a little harder than normal against the countertop. "You're being overly negative. No, it's not _realistic_ when you really have no idea as to how any of the other gods will react. We're going in blind, but if we pose our argument better than we did with Hades then there's a good chance we'll win enough of them over that we'll be the stronger side. There's no need for pessimism; it won't help us."

"It's not pessimism," Annabeth muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. "Let's hope I won't have to say 'I told you so'."

* * *

Nico di Angelo stumbled across the hotel foyer with a girl on each arm; the concierge gave him a knowing wink and Nico nodded in return, smirking briefly before falling into the elevator after his company. They got off at the top floor, since Nico always booked a penthouse, and he set about fixing his girls some champagne while they lounged on the couches, giggling drunkenly. When he returned they were both naked in the hot tub in the center of the room, one sitting on the other's lap—he really had no idea what their names were or even how to tell them apart, but he figured they wouldn't care, since they'd been all over him the moment he walked up to the bar. Not for the first time, he found himself thinking how glad he was to have gotten the best parts of his parents' looks; his dark, handsome features drew girls to him like a damn magnet and he never had to be alone at night. Setting down the three champagne glasses, Nico pulled his shirt off and hopped into the jacuzzi, pulling the blonde one closer for a kiss while the brunette perched herself on his lap.

"Champagne?" Nico managed when he came up for air, nodding his head at the three glasses on a nearby table.

"Ooh, yes," the blonde said with enthusiasm, and she stepped out of the water to grab all three. Nico watched her bare ass appreciatively, fighting the temptation to smack it as the brunette was currently grinding against his crotch in the nicest way.

Then three short raps against the door caught his attention, and he raised an eyebrow. He was almost certain he'd hung a 'Do Not Disturb' sign from his door, and if this was fucking _room service_ or some shit then there would be carnage. He held up an annoyed finger to the women in his hot tub and leapt from the water onto the floor, running a hand through his hair to muss it up and make it clear that it really was _not_ a good time. He swung open the door irritably and—

"Hey Nico," Percy Jackson drawled from the doorway, and Nico wasn't sure whether he wanted to hit the guy or hug him.

"Dude," Nico said exasperatedly, glancing back at the two girls waiting for him. "You couldn't have waited?"

"Eh," Percy shrugged with a sheepish expression. "Probably, but you know me... impatient... besides, it looks like there's more than enough in there to go around," his friend continued, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Nico gave him a look. "What about Annabeth?"

Percy's face darkened. "I'll explain later. Are you gonna invite me in or what?"

"Yeah, sure, why not," Nico muttered. He supposed it wasn't the worst interruption he could have had, especially since it seemed Percy was more inclined to join the fun than break it up. He followed Percy into the large room, locking the door behind him after checking that the 'Do Not Disturb' sign was, indeed, hanging over the doorknob. "Ladies... this is my friend Percy. Percy, this is... ehm..." Shit. He should have tried harder to remember their names.

"Kayla," the brunette offered with a sleazy smile.

"And I'm Brittany," said the blonde cheerfully. Guess he needn't have worried.

Percy gave a lazy wave and, noting everyone's attire, disrobed until he was in his boxers as well. "Any champagne left?" Percy grinned, not waiting for an answer as he grabbed the bottle and began to drink from it.

"Please, help yourself," Nico said sarcastically, jumping back into the warmth of the jacuzzi and downing the remainder of his own drink. "Who wants him?" he said to the girls, laughing a little to himself. He was drunk enough on what he'd had at the bar that seeing Percy after so many years wasn't awkward, but it was sure to be the next morning, if not a little strange. He had an idea as to why Percy was here—in fact, he was surprised it had taken the guy so long to contact him, but he wasn't going to bring that up unless his friend said something. For now, he was just going to make sure that they both enjoyed themselves as much as was physically possible.

"Mm, I'll have him," purred the brunette whose name Nico had already forgotten, again, and she slid a manicured hand up Percy's arm to drag him down into the hot tub as well. Percy winked at Nico before sliding a hand through long brown hair and pulling the girl in for a deep kiss. Nico snickered to himself once, then likewise occupied himself with the blonde. It was going to be a long, satisfying night.

* * *

"Mmmnnrrgh," Percy mumbled into his pillow, groaning at the way his stomach contents were swirling nastily. A minute later they started to rise and he hurriedly pushed himself out of bed and fell onto the floor with a serious lack of grace, making his way to the bathroom as fast as he could, finally leaning over the toilet and puking. He retched a few more times until nothing but bile came from his mouth, then straightened shakily and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. _Shoulda brought a toothbrush_, he thought as he ran his tongue across his teeth and spat once into the sink. The girls were gone—they'd left sometime in the early morning, and he and Nico had promptly collapsed and passed out. It was hard to believe the other demi-god was just sixteen, especially since he looked older than ever. That wasn't unusual though. Percy remembered how thin and worn and too knowledgeable Nico looked back when he was only eleven, and apparently the trend had continued.

"Y'alright?" Nico called from the other room, sounding little better than Percy felt.

"Heh," Percy laughed once, rubbing his sore head. "Ever thought about saving some of the fun for when you're actually legal?" he said as he walked back out of the bathroom to find Nico sprawled on the black shag carpet, where he'd apparently slept.

"My I.D. is _perfect_ though," Nico said into the rug, attempting to lift his head and failing.

"Whatever. Got any orange juice or should I order room service?" Percy wasn't sure he could stomach much of anything, but he knew salt always helped settle things even when he had to forcefeed himself.

"Room service," was all Nico managed before the demi-god shoved himself off the floor and bolted to the bathroom. It would probably be a while before they got to talking about anything, so Percy settled himself on the couch with a wastebin by his feet in case he needed to puke again and dialed for his orange juice and some toast, bacon, and eggs. Then he flipped on the tv, absentmindedly watching the news without really hearing what was going on, until something caught his attention.

"_...seems as though survivors of the avalanche have all contracted a mysterious illness. They are currently bedridden in the hospital and unable to take questions, but a witness has said that a 'blindingly bright explosion' near the top of the mountain caused the avalanche, and that it released some sort of black 'shadowy' gas that was absorbed by the snow. Chemists are now testing the snow for toxins, and the mountain is still being scoured for more information," _the woman newscaster said into the microphone, looking not even a little bit fazed by the scene unfolding behind her in a homemade video.

It appeared that some snow-capped mountain in Colorado—Percy wasn't sure of the name or significance—had suffered a horrible avalanche that very morning. Percy's first reaction was to write off the event as some other natural-disaster-like result of the war, but something was strange about it...the 'gas' the newscaster mentioned seemed familiar, but for the moment he couldn't place why. Just as he started to think harder about it, Nico emerged from the bathroom looking pale and a little green but no worse for the wear, and a knock at the door signaled that their late breakfast had arrived.

Percy got up and thanked the man at the door, taking the platter of food and juice that was looking better by the minute and setting it on the floor between he and Nico. "Better eat," Percy said through his bite of toast. Nico just nodded and sat there leaning against the couch. All was quiet save for the dim noises from the tv while Percy fed himself as much as he could handle. Eventually Nico joined him, and forty-five minutes later both were looking and feeling much better.

"So," Nico started after a hefty gulp of juice to wash down the food. "It's been awhile."

Percy coughed and looked around, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah...sorry to just come barging in like I did. I mean, we left in good terms and I didn't really think you would change too much, ya know? Still, I didn't give you much warning, or even ask."

Nico nodded, shrugging. "No problem. Must be important though, for you to rush over from wherever you were to here. Hey, you look different," Nico added suddenly, studying Percy carefully. Sure, he knew Percy's appearance would have changed as he got older, but the disparities he saw would have required plastic surgery or something.

"Long story."

"Clearly," Nico said with raised eyebrows as he crossed his arms. "I've got all day. Or half of it, since we slept so late. And I'd like to know what the hell's been going on, yeah."

So Percy told him. Everything. He held back a few details, like the contents of some of his dreams and what exactly his plans were regarding Hades and Luke, but he'd mention the latter after he'd finished relating the basics. He took a break every so often to grab a sip of juice, but otherwise his story went uninterrupted. Nico was being a surprisingly good listener.

"I have to admit," Nico sighed once Percy finished, "I expected to hear from you way sooner. When I heard about your dad... I was sure you'd come running to me. Guess you didn't think of it though."

"Nope. Never crossed my mind until that fat lady who knew Rachel mentioned it. Stupid, I know, but I guess my mind was just too occupied with other things."

"And now you're Ares' step-son... that's pretty fucking weird man," Nico said, scrunching his face up in revulsion. "Didn't think something like that was possible. Too bad you couldn't have asked my dad—we would have been step-brothers," he continued as an afterthought.

Percy gave him a half smile. "Like I said... I wasn't thinking things through all that clearly, and Ares offered so I figured that would be my best chance. It's definitely weird. We don't really get along, but something changed when he...adopted... me, and strangely, I don't think I hate him anymore."

"Huh. Interesting how things turn out. The Fates are probably having a ball with all this shit," Nico laughed, shaking his head, then sobered. "But... you're here for a reason."

"Yeah," Percy said shortly, staring out the large window at the sun-bathed Las Vegas for a long moment before returning his attention to the boy in front of him. "I wanted to know...well..._could_Igetmydadback?" he rushed somewhat incoherently.

"Honestly, I have no idea. You'd have to take that up with my dad," Nico admitted, giving Percy a genuinely apologetic look. "Sorry I can't help more, but I can always take you to see him."

"Right, well, that's another thing. This war... I told you how there's gonna be sides, and see, Ares wants Hades on our side. The good side, relatively speaking." Percy had taken great care explaining the intricacies of the current predicament between the gods to Nico, making sure to clarify that Zeus and Athena were after power for themselves.

Instead of responding directly, Nico surprised Percy by saying, "I wonder how Hera is taking this."

"Sorry?"

"You know, she's Zeus's wife. She can't be too happy about Zeus and Athena getting close, and from what I remember, she had a pretty shit temper."

"Oh. Wow. I didn't even think about her," Percy blinked, wondering how he could have missed such a detail, especially given his history with her in Daedalus's labyrinth. "She's gotta be _pissed_. Hey, maybe she'd join us too then! And she's powerful—"

"You realize how horrible all of this sounds, right?" Nico said, cutting Percy off. "I mean, I've been out of the loop for a while. By choice, obviously, but hearing this... it's not good. The gods aren't supposed to be this divided. You remember the last time they started fighting with each other? It was because Kronos and the Titans _wanted_ them at odds. What if the same thing is happening this time?"

Percy scoffed. "Impossible. They're gone for a _long_ time. Not forever, sure, but they can't reform so quickly. It's been what, five years, give or take? No. That's not the problem."

Nico held up his hands. "Okay, okay, I'm just saying. But you're right, this seems like the only way to go about things since Zeus and Athena are already teamed up and trying to take over. They're probably recruiting as we speak."

"Exactly. Which is why we need to do the same—if you're with me on this. Are you?"

Sighing, Nico raised his eyes to the ceiling with a look that said he wasn't quite sure why he was agreeing, but: "Yeah, yeah, sure. What were you saying then, about my dad?"

"Um, well...we need him. On our side. He would be the biggest asset out of anyone, and also..." Percy trailed off, trying to figure out how best to word what he was going to say without sounding ridiculous. "Ares believes that the dead could fight with us."

Nico frowned as he played with a leftover piece of toast, tearing the bread into little bits and dropping them on the floor without meaning to. "Again...I wouldn't know. I might be his son, but Hades deals with all that stuff. And Ares is hoping for too much, I think. I've never heard of something like that, and I doubt my father would be all that willing to just _supply_ an army of souls, if it's even possible."

"If I've learned anything from the gods, it's that there's no such thing as impossible," Percy muttered somewhat bitterly, then looked up at Nico. "Ares specifically wanted Luke Castellan to lead the souls of Elysium."

"Luke." Nico was skeptical. "If I'm remembering correctly... dude doesn't have the greatest track record."

"Yup. I know." Percy was still having trouble accepting that he would be asking for Luke's help. The guy might have died a hero, but that didn't mean Percy wouldn't always resent him a little bit for taking up so much of Annabeth's attention, and for hurting her.

"Why Elysium?"

"No clue," Percy exhaled noisily, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. He wasn't much one for planning, but he'd never gone on any sort of quest _this_ blind. All he knew was that he was taking a lot of chances that had unknown and most likely calamitous consequences for a cause he wasn't even sure was unbiased and just. Again and again he'd been prepared to sacrifice everything to restore peace to Olympus, but for what? More time for the gods to mess things up once more, to fight with each other every time they got bored? He could almost understand why Luke had been so ready to serve Kronos against the gods, but that was not a path he wanted to venture down, or really even think too much about. He was afraid as to what he might find.

"Since I can't answer your questions, I guess I owe you a safe trip to the Underworld, at least," Nico smirked, then belched loudly and shamelessly. "Dad has been in a foul mood lately, and no offense, but he really doesn't like you, so you're lucky you have me to keep things peaceful," the demi-god grinned, looking more genuinely happy than Percy had yet seen him; he figured it was because despite Nico's adamant decision to stay out of the gods' world, the boy was a half god at heart and he couldn't escape his identity any better than the rest of them.

"Good to be back, isn't it?" Percy said with a crooked half-smirk, standing and offering Nico his hand to help him up.

"Maybe," Nico said slyly as he took Percy's hand. Something crossed between them, an unspoken deal of sorts, and Percy stared intently into Nico's eyes while they faced each other. Satisfied with what he saw, Percy gave a single nod and headed for the door, turning to make sure Nico was following.

* * *

Three figures sat around a single fire; it was not large but it provided more than enough warmth and light. The night was pitch black without a moon, and clouds covered the stars. Silence stretched on between the bodies until one finally spoke.

"I am starting to think we should have done something long ago, given the ease with which they are deceived and blinded." The voice was heavy and dark and slow, and the words seemed to hang levitated in the air for several minutes after the being had spoken.

"Perhaps," said the second. This voice was female, soft and deceivingly gentle. "By biding our time we have grown stronger and more cunning than they would have anticipated. They were unwise to forget us for so long. Besides, we have made the best of allies."

The three shared a brief, quiet laugh that rose with the smoke into the air, dispersing with the wind that scattered it across the wide, uninhabited land.

"I grow impatient." The third voice was angrier, harder, but like velvet in its beautiful caress. "Now is as good a time as any, while they are confused and disorganized."

"All in good time," said the woman conciliatorily, her tone that of someone speaking to a young child. "You'll have your revenge; we all will. For now... it is not safe for us to remain together in one place for long. We shall meet again soon. I will send word." Her outline then faded into the night sky almost immediately, and the others followed suit, leaving no trace of their presence save for the remains of the solitary fire, extinguished with their exodus.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the long waits between chapters lately; I'll try and be more prompt from now on! As always, I would love any feedback you have to offer, and let me know when the plot gets too convoluted—I have too many ideas for it and probably won't be able to work them all out perfectly.


	4. The Descent

**Carrion**

* * *

Chapter IV – The Descent

* * *

"When they come, you will go with them," a cold female voice said. There was no arguing with it.

"Yes, mother," sighed a voice just as clear, but less icy in tone, its youthfulness betraying the innocence, as it had yet to be marred by the tragedies of the world. "One of them is the daughter of Athena, though. She's smart. She'll figure out our intentions."

"Perhaps," mused the first, "but from what I've heard, she tends to look for the best in people, and then latches on to the positives and becomes blinded to the faults. Quite a fatal flaw, really, so while I wouldn't suggest overlooking her intelligence… play into her perceptions of you a bit. I know what a good actress you are."

Compliments were rare, and came at a price, so the female demi-god allowed herself a smile. "Yes. And how often would you like me to report back?"

"Oh, you know. Whenever you feel it is prudent, whenever you can get away without raising suspicions. I trust you to know. Remember, though, Tuesdays and Thursdays from dusk till dawn are off limits."

The girl shuddered; unwanted mental images of scenes she'd walked in on flitted across her mind in quick procession, and she strained to focus all of her attention on a strand of her own dark hair that she held between her fingers. "Believe me, I remember," she muttered, and missed the dreamily disturbing expression that crossed over her mother's face.

"They should be arriving soon. Within the morning. Playing off my good mood, probably. Clever girls," the older woman clicked her tongue in approval. "Off with you, now. Best prepare yourself, the things you need. Don't forget your charm."

The girl clenched her jaw once in irritation. "I never do."

* * *

"You know what I think?" Thalia mused, and Annabeth attempted to lift her head from the table in front of her, where it rested heavily on her arms.

"What." After speaking with Zeus and Athena, the two demi-gods had come away more than a little surprised; they'd expected to be harshly berated for failing to get even several words in to Hades, but the gods had just looked at each other knowingly, and that was that.

Since then, they'd been traipsing all across the country at their parents' whims, gathering various hidden weaponry and allegiances from businesses like the Triple G Ranch. Apollo had apparently been helpful – last Annabeth had heard, he'd gotten in a fairly bloody fight with Hephaestus, and won, leaving the blacksmith god bruised and broken enough that he wouldn't be of any aid to the other side. They had Hestia and Demeter, both of whom had pledged to help Zeus return to his throne, and it seemed like many of the gods truly wanted to return to some semblance of order.

Except, of course, for those gods who had always been more volatile and power-hungry, the ones Percy was currently recruiting. Her bad dreams continued to plague her, and she was becoming increasingly worried about what the outcome of the war would yield. On the surface, it was an escalated dispute between the gods, but she hadn't forgotten what Hades had said about some horrible fate for her mother, and was well aware that something deeper and darker was stirring beneath the façade of the gods at war. She certainly wasn't daughter of the goddess of wisdom for nothing, and her brain was working overtime as she tried to decipher what these things could possibly mean. Lately she'd been acutely missing Percy's help, since Thalia was so self-absorbed most of the time that she barely cared to listen to Annabeth's theories.

Annabeth ran her hands over her makeup-free face and into her hair, where her fingers caught in the knots; she really needed a shower, and she wrinkled her nose despite herself. Thalia looked clean and bright-eyed, dressed in all black as usual, and Annabeth couldn't help but envy her friend for her constant poise despite everything that was going on.

"_I_ think they already knew Hades wouldn't join them, and wanted evidence of Hades' dissension so they had a valid reason to attack him."

"Mm," Annabeth said noncommittally, dazedly catching only a few words as she stared out the grimy window to her right at the wide expanse of desert, the still dark sky, and then the Sierra Nevadas in the distance.

Athena had her scoping out the extent of the minor gods' allegiance; who was against them, and who stood alone. There were way more minor gods than Annabeth had had any idea about, and they weren't very far down the list. She'd decided to go through the long list alphabetically to avoid confusion, but now she was starting to think it would have been more prudent to figure out each minor god's location, and then contact them by proximity to each other.

Too late. By deity-word-of-mouth, they'd found out Eris, goddess of strife and discord, resided in some high peak of the Sierra Nevadas. From what they'd so far discovered about the minor gods, it seemed highly unlikely that Eris would be willing to help them out, _if_ she was still otherwise unaffiliated, but Annabeth thought she was right to assume she wouldn't be. Anyone who championed strife and discord was a serious liability, in her opinion.

And then there was Percy. She was driving herself crazy over him; on the one hand, she hated feeling the damsel in distress, since that was unquestionably _not_ who she was, or even who she embodied, and had every intention to scorn him to her heart's content. However… she missed him, every day, and her subconscious was making it impossible for her to even try to forget. With all the speculation about some bigger issue than the gods' fighting, Annabeth was sorely tempted to call it quits with Thalia and team up with Percy. More and more, she felt that she was doing the wrong thing, that Percy had been right all along, and that if she waited too long to sort things out with him she would lose him indefinitely.

"…and then my dad would be happy with us again—Annabeth, are you even listening?" Thalia said, obviously irritated with Annabeth's lack of attention.

"Nope," Annabeth smiled snarkily. "I don't _care_. I really don't. I just want to get all of this stupid shit over with. It's not like any of the minor gods will actually join us, and they know it. All we're doing is waltzing into these gods' homes uninvited and putting ourselves at risk, for nothing. If I didn't know better, I'd think our parents were trying to get us killed." She pushed herself up off the table into a full sitting position, facing Thalia. "Look. Speculate all you want, but don't say it to me. I have other things to worry about. Anyway, we'd better get going. Eris is in her best mood at dawn, right? And it looks like the sky is starting to lighten."

Without waiting for a response, Annabeth stood and walked into the adjacent bedroom of their motel room to get dressed. She shivered as she pulled her tee-shirt over her head, replacing it with a stretchy gray long-sleeve Underarmour shirt. Pulling on her black running spandex, she glanced in the mirror, debating whether to forgo makeup for the day. Squinting at herself for a long moment, she decided some black eyeliner couldn't hurt, and quickly applied it lightly. She mechanically donned her socks and black winged boots she'd nabbed from the Hermes cabin at camp. She'd gotten Thalia a pair of hideous, hot pink trainers out of spite, though in the back of her mind she knew it wasn't Thalia's fault for any of this, and that she'd have done better to send the horrid sneakers straight to Zeus, along with her middle finger. But she'd wait on that until she actually wanted to get blasted off the face of the earth.

Finished dressing but not quite wanting to return to Thalia's presence immediately, Annabeth gazed out the window with her arms crossed. The sky was still a deep purple; the sun had not yet risen, and she knew the air would be cool due to their location, although it was late June. Starts still dotted the wide expanse of cloudless sky, and it was really quite beautiful if she allowed herself to think about it much.

There came a soft knock at the bedroom door, and Annabeth twisted her head toward the noise.

"Annabeth? We should get going," Thalia said, abnormally gentle in tone, and Annabeth's mouth curled up just slightly. Thalia was habitually abrasive but she knew when and how to be a friend. It was one of the things Annabeth liked best about her, that she could be highly individual but maintain a strong sense of loyalty when it most mattered.

"Coming," she replied just as quietly, and gave her friend a small smile once she exited the room.

"Looks cold out," Thalia murmured as she lifted an animal hide over her shoulders, presumably from some animal she'd shot while with Artemis's huntress's. "You might want more layers than that, especially once we start gaining altitude."

Annabeth's lips twitched when Thalia conspicuously refrained from looking or remarking on her gauchely bright sneakers. "I'll be fine," she assured Thalia, then sighed. "It'd be so much easier to just _say_ we'd seen all these damn gods and goddesses, since we know none of them are sympathetic to our side. We can visit Eris, since we're already here, but the minor gods are a lost cause and I think we should just cross all of them off the list."

"As long as our parents don't find out, fine by me," Thalia said wholeheartedly, shutting the motel door behind them as they stepped out into the chilly morning air. There was a slight breeze, but it didn't faze either of them.

They made sure to put a significant distance across the desert between themselves and the motel (the only civilization noticeable for miles) before putting their winged footwear to use and taking to the sky. Annabeth closed her eyes in blissful delight, rejoicing in the way her feet seemed to press against the air, lifting her higher and higher—

"Don't fly too high, Icarus," Thalia taunted, though Annabeth knew the comment was due to Thalia's ironic fear of heights, since they weren't all that high up, even though they were getting closer to being eye level with the mountain peaks ahead.

Not more than a half hour later, they stood on a wide red cliff lining the side of the highest peak, which they had been told marked the entrance to Eris's humble abode. Reluctant to venture into the dark tunnel behind them just yet, Annabeth insisted they at least wait for the sun to rise. A blinding sliver of orange was just beginning to peek over the mountains, and she was struck by how peaceful this was, so far from civilization, as if they were the only ones in the world and there was no war to worry about. But of course there were always wars, and they were two mere girls in a world of billions, and a bitter smile graced her lips as her stormy eyes lingered on the rosy pink wisps of clouds that had just formed, and when she expelled her deep breath of frigid mountain air, it was with a sense of finality.

Without warning, not even the sound of footsteps behind them, two pairs of strong hands grabbed the both of them and pulled them back into the cave behind them, where the darkness enveloped them both as they were dragged along the stone ground, and the scream died in Annabeth's throat when she found her mouth gagged and her voice strangely mute. Her mind was racing faster than her heart. Obviously they hadn't given the goddess any knowledge that they would be coming, but she hadn't expected such a hostile welcome. Perhaps it was custom for all unknown trespassers to be taken in this manner, but it seemed rather…paranoid, and unnecessary, considering they were two demi-gods who were there primarily out of curiosity. It was always a gamble to enter into the presence of any god, minor or major, uninvited, and the risk was heightened due to the animosity between the deities. Annabeth couldn't quite quell the panic that rose in her throat as she assessed their situation.

She and Thalia quickly realized it was futile to struggle—and painful to be dragged; Annabeth was sure her spandex had been torn by the rough rock beneath her—and both girls miserably acquiesced to walk close behind their captors, whose hands still held them tightly. They didn't say a word, and Annabeth assumed Thalia had been gagged as well.

After almost ten minutes of walking, their previously pitch-black pathway began to lighten gradually, and Annabeth saw they were in a tunnel headed toward the center of the mountain. It was widely excavated and open, as she'd guessed by the way their footsteps echoed just slightly. In the distance, she saw that the tunnel emptied into a room, the size of which she couldn't tell from their location. She turned to her left, trying to catch Thalia's eye, but Thalia was looking firmly at the ground, probably ashamed of being caught unawares and captured in such a manner. Shifting her eyes back ahead of her, she tried to get a better look at who was leading her. It appeared to be a man, though he couldn't be merely human with such inhuman strength. She couldn't see his face, but he had long, billowing hair that was a mix of pale blue, yellow, and orange, that seemed to float and wave behind him as if caught in a breeze. It was really quite striking, and she saw that Thalia's captor had hair of the same nature, although his was pale purple, gray, and brown.

Annabeth was so caught up examining the man in front of her that she stumbled when she realized they were at the entrance to the room she'd spotted from far off. Impossibly huge, the room was a majestic deep blue in color, with walls that seemed to sparkle in the light that came from the enormous skylight over their heads, a telltale that the room, located within the mountain, was just under the peak. It was covered with a crystalline material that warped the light from outside in its fissures, but somehow made it appear all the more beautiful. Annabeth's mouth was open in breathless awe, and she noticed that Thalia was staring as well.

"Notus. Zephyrus," said a clear, crystalline voice from her left, and before Annabeth turned toward the sound, she recognized the names as belonging to the gods of the South and West winds, which made sense, though she wasn't sure why they would serve Eris. "I see you've brought me company."

When Annabeth's eyes finally fell upon the goddess, her breath escaped her fully in a shocked, envious hiss.

Before her stood, statuesque, an impossibly, strikingly beautiful woman standing at her own height. With eyes that were an even deeper, more brilliant sapphire than the walls, long and silken black hair that fell to her waist, and smooth alabaster skin, Annabeth was sure she'd never seen anyone so stunning, even Aphrodite. What caught her attention most was the tragic, spiteful undercurrent behind those radiant azure orbs, and she wondered at the reasons for it in someone so perfect and godly until she remembered that Eris was the goddess of conflict, and of course it would be there.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" said Eris with polite sarcasm. Her voice was like a thousand lost children's voices, beautiful and terrible at once.

Annabeth blinked several times to clear her head and her jealousy, and folded her arms across her chest. "Oh you know, we were just passing through. Wanted to see how you were." Ha.

"Obviously," the goddess replied lightly, playing along, though Annabeth knew to be prepared for a sudden change in temper. "Though I'm sure there's more to it than that," she said, tapping her temple with a delicate finger. "What could a daughter of _Athena_ want with someone like me? I stand against everything you support, you see."

There was something about the way the goddess had said her mother's name… Annabeth's brows furrowed as her mind whirred into action. Inflection truly said everything, and Annabeth was nothing if not skilled at deciphering tones. "What do you know?" she finally said tersely (though she couldn't quite hide the anxious undertone), her arms still crossed, and she never broke her gaze with Eris. Thalia looked from one female to the other with a befuddled expression, not quite understanding how the conversation had arrived at that point.

Eris gave a startlingly white and fatally charming smile. "Now, now, don't go poking that perfect little nose of yours where it doesn't belong. I respect your…candor…but it won't get you anywhere. You'll find out in due time, I expect. It seems to me you are here to…cross me off a certain list? Please, go right ahead. And feel free to cross off the rest of us _minors_. We don't help demi-gods of the _privileged_ Olympians. I wouldn't want you to waste your time."

Annabeth returned the smile with a sardonic smirk. "I'll find out sooner than you want, and I'll do it on my own terms, thank you. Besides, you really think I'd trust the word of the goddess of _strife_ and _discord_? You underestimate me. I'm offended." Two could play the game, and Annabeth was rather adept at the execution of the so-called Polite-but-Hostile conversation. "I am curious though," she continued, and uncrossed her arms to let one hand rest on the hilt of her knife, which hung, unconcealed, from her belt. "How did you all rally so…effectively? And, forgive me, I assume you've had various amounts of help from outside sources, and I'm just _dying_ to know how things have turned out."

The goddess flashed another dazzling beam of white teeth and spread pink lips, and cocked her head to one side. "You are really something," she murmured. "I almost wish my daughter was like you. But she's a little less…pure, thankfully."

Thalia raised her eyebrows, storing away that little piece of information. She'd caught on quickly enough that Annabeth had been referring to the goddess's knowledge of Athena, and was still a little (alarmingly) mollified about how the conversation had gone so far. Sure, she knew Annabeth was "skilled with language," as her friend had so modestly put it once, but her social skills were pretty impeccable, considering the person—goddess—with whom she was speaking. Additionally, Thalia knew Annabeth to have a pretty bad (and unbridled) temper, and she was duly impressed at her ability to reign it in depending on the situation and the person, and clearly Annabeth knew that the angry and wild approach wouldn't have gotten her anywhere with Eris.

"You have a daughter?" said Annabeth skeptically. A demi-god? She didn't know of any daughters of Eris, ever, and if it was another minor deity, she certainly hadn't heard of her.

"Certainly," replied Eris genially, as though they were chatting about the weather. "Acheron!" she called, her voice ringing in the open room, and within a matter of seconds, Annabeth turned to the sound of footsteps coming from the same tunnel through which they'd entered.

Once more, Annabeth was staggered by the beauty in front of her, and here was a girl—definitely demi-god—who was about sixteen and seriously gorgeous that could actually pose a threat to her hold over Percy. Not that she had much hold, currently, but she knew they'd find their way back to each other, as they always did. Even now (always) she had the urge to drop everything, for him, because that was the nature of their relationship and she couldn't blame herself for being a little addicted. She knew, at least, he felt the same. But… _Fuck_. Because _Acheron_, this daughter of Eris, was stunning, with the silky long dark hair and deep blue eyes that mirrored her mother's, and the face of an incredibly blessed angel, and frankly, she seemed like Percy's type.

A snort sounded from her left, and she whipped her head toward Thalia, who was stifling derisive laughs.

"Sorry," said Thalia after she'd contained herself, "but you named your _daughter_ after the Underworld river of pain? Seriously? What is it with goddesses?" Once Thalia had gotten over _that_ little bit of humour, she noticed the palpable and still-growing loathing emanating from Annabeth, and turned to get a good look at this girl…_Ah._ Miss River of Pain was the picture of perfection, and she could tell that Annabeth was seconds from either tearing the girl to pieces or running straight to Percy, wherever in the world that Seaweed Brain was, and marking her territory. Worst of all, Annabeth wasn't even the jealous type, but Thalia knew even she had her limits, and clearly the daughter of Eris had crossed the invisible line into the designated region of If You're Here, I Will Slaughter You in AnnabethLand. Eventually Thalia realized Eris was openly glaring at her, and she tried to appear contrite. "I mean, it's a pretty name?" It kind of was, but _still_. On principle, she had to laugh, despite the fact that she was sure her maturity level looked to be below zero at the moment.

"Suit yourself," Eris said with a deceivingly airy voice after another long moment of glaring, when it was clear she wouldn't get a rise out of Zeus's admittedly pretty but largely boyish daughter. "Acheron, meet Annabeth, daughter of Athena. And that's Thalia, daughter of Zeus."

Thalia gave River of Pain a brightly amused smile.

Annabeth, meanwhile, had managed to swallow her jealous rage (for the time being) in order to keep up her front of civility, and nodded at the girl with a tight, closed-lip smile. She didn't yet trust herself to open her mouth, for fear of curse-filled and rather violent word vomit. However, even through the intense dislike, Annabeth saw an opportunity in the form of this new demi-god, and she was not one to waste opportunities in favor of personal issues. She prided herself on her ability to think objectively, even if she ultimately rejected the impartiality for her selfish wants.

"Hello," Acheron said with just a hint of arrogance, as if she was far too used to and comfortable with these reactions, and Annabeth had to literally bite her tongue as her hand clenched around the hilt of her knife.

"I am willing," began Eris, who was no longer smiling, "to offer a truce in the form of my daughter. As long as she remains with you, she will help you, and we 'minor' gods will not harm you." She addressed Annabeth, ignoring Thalia completely.

Thalia scoffed, but held her tongue as she waited for Annabeth to immediately say no. It wouldn't help them to enter into a less-than-trustworthy truce with Eris behind their parents' backs, and she was already on shaky terms with her father. No good could come of it, since Annabeth clearly hated the daughter and getting help from their enemies was probably the worst thing they could do. She was, therefore, irately shocked when Annabeth said, clearly, "Yes."

Not bothering to hide her feelings about it, Thalia advanced on Annabeth, paying no attention to the other two women in the room. "_What do you think you're doing?_" she hissed. "I thought you were smarter than this, being daughter of Athena and all. Apparently not, but why listen to Thalia? She doesn't know anything, she's not as _intelligent_," mocked Thalia, and she didn't care that her anger was growing due to issues that weren't entirely relevant but that had certainly been there within her, festering with time. "No need to _discuss_, or let poor Thalia in, since Annabeth always knows what's best. But you don't Annabeth, and you never did. It was while _I_ was gone that Luke turned bad. I blame you. If I'd been there, it wouldn't have happened, because _I _was enough for him and you weren—"

"Stop it," Annabeth said coldly, attempting and almost succeeding to mask the tremor in her voice.

"Will she be a problem?" Eris cut in conversationally, but she didn't wait for a reply. At the snap of her fingers, Notus and Zephyrus began closing in on Thalia, and Annabeth couldn't find it within herself to care.

There had always been a tension between Annabeth and Thalia, that had started back when it had been just the two of them and Luke. _It's always Luke_, Annabeth thought bitterly. Best friends though they were, there had been an invisible but ever present power struggle, a damaging undercurrent to their friendship that waxed and waned in a manner similar to the swell of the ocean, different in levels but forever ready to draw up again in a large wave and then come crashing down.

Thalia tended to have the upper hand, and now that Annabeth was calling the shots most of the time…the argument had been inevitable, but Annabeth found herself far more unforgiving than she'd thought, and she continued to watch as Notus and Zephyrus circled Thalia, slowly concealing her with what looked like a sort of dense mist that swirled with their motions.

"_Annabeth!_," Thalia screamed, her face frightened and desperate, and something briefly tugged at Annabeth's heartstrings. She ignored it. She was sick of being second-best to the daughter of Zeus. In the back of her mind, the nagging notion that this had been planned, that because she was in the presence of the goddess of strife and discord this had happened the way it did, weighed on her heart, but she pushed it from her thoughts. This was entirely her own doing, and she refused to go back on it. Thalia had broken something with her cruel words, because they surely hit home and Annabeth just stared apathetically as Thalia's image slowly disappeared with the wind around her. She didn't even care where she'd gone.

"She's not dead, if that's what you're wondering," said Eris cheerfully. "So, Annabeth, daughter of Athena." She said it with amusement, as though privately laughing at some untold joke. "Acheron will join you. You know the terms of the agreement. Sound good?" The goddess blinked innocently.

Annabeth wasn't stupid. She had her own motives for consenting, not that she would let the goddess know that. "Sounds perfect," Annabeth said smoothly, though her eyes continued to drift back to the place Thalia had been standing. Notus and Zephyrus gave her matching, leering grins.

"Fantastic. Now," Eris said as she ushered Acheron over to stand next to Annabeth, who took a noticeably unreceptive step away, "I think you've taken up enough of my morning."

Without another warning, Eris snapped her fingers once, and Annabeth felt her body materialize in a sudden breeze which carried her out of the mountain and over the country. Vaguely aware of Acheron's similar presence, she couldn't focus on anything, try as she might, and she finally hit the ground after an imperceptible amount of time. The scent of flowers pervaded her nostrils and her hazy eyes briefly registered that she was in a meadow, and then she blacked out.

* * *

Percy had to admit it was much more pleasant getting to the Underworld when he was accompanied by the son of Hades; he didn't have to perilously cross the River Styx, didn't have to fear that he'd get attacked at moment's notice. In fact, he found himself able to relax and even enjoy his surroundings. Sure, he loved the ocean more than anything, but the Underworld had its own charms (he hastily stifled a laugh at his word choice); he liked the quiet tranquility and stillness and the dim lighting, though he supposed he would get sick of it eventually. It seemed Hades had redesigned things a bit, since the pathways (still supported by nothing but magic and air) were more open, though still dark, and crossing from the judgment room to Asphodel to Hades' throne room was much cooler than Percy remembered.

He was fascinated by the souls and their fates that surrounded them on all sides, above and below, but did not pity them; he was a firm believer in taking full responsibility for one's actions, and was sure that however horrible a soul's punishment was, the soul deserved it. His lips pressed into a line as he speculated his own fate; he wondered where he'd end up when he died, whether he'd done enough good to earn Elysium. Sure, he could be altruistic, but… the things he did usually benefitted him in some way, and he was inherently selfish. His gaze wandered over Asphodel, and noted the various punishments… What would his own be?

Apparently Percy had paused to look further—for a moment, he was sure he'd spotted Ethan Nakamura, son of Nemesis—because he felt a tug on his arm and reluctantly turned back to Nico, who gave him an impatient, exasperated look.

"It's interesting, I know, but if you're down here _too_ long before Hades knows, you might end up with them," Nico warned, referring to the souls suffering Asphodel.

Percy granted him a quick (though entirely unconvincing) grin, told him not to worry, and followed a dubious Nico into Hades' throne room where the heavy metal doors shut behind them with a foreboding _boom_.

The room was large with a magnificently high ceiling, and it was as dim as the rest of the Underworld, lit only by torches lining the dark stone walls that cast orange light across the room that should have been untainted but also held a blue tinge, as though even the firelight couldn't escape the cold pull of the darkness. Unsurprisingly, the space was exceptionally sparse; the only furniture in the room were two enormous silver thrones with black upholstery, the larger of which currently supported the god of the dead. The smaller one was empty, but Percy assumed it was for Persephone.

Hades looked different than he remembered; in fact, the god looked better, more polished, and wore a style similar to Ares. _Maybe there was some universal god-makeover_, Percy thought with a skeptical expression as he eyed Hades' scruffy, chiseled good looks. Annabeth had never been shy about telling him how attractive he was, but Percy couldn't help but feel a little threatened by all these gods, who were most certainly upstaging him. He just hoped she wouldn't have a change of heart.

"Percy Jackson," Hades said jovially. He looked to be in a good mood, which Percy was thankful for, but he still shivered at the god's voice. It seemed to scrape against his very soul. "I've been expecting you. Ever since your little girlfriend—" Percy winced at this, and Hades' smirk grew wider. "—showed up with that blasted daughter of Zeus, I knew you wouldn't be far behind. Hopefully you'll argue your case better than she did. Really, it was a train wreck, and as daughter of Athena, I expected more…sense…from her."

So Annabeth had already been there? It would have angered him, but obviously she'd failed to convince Hades to join Zeus and Athena, and Percy wasn't surprised. That had been a lost cause for them, and Annabeth probably knew it too – Thalia was just too stubborn to listen to anything intelligent. It pained him more than usual to think about Annabeth, especially since the guilt about his indiscretions the other night was eating him alive. He knew it wasn't like him to just throw his cares to the wind for some girl whose name he didn't know, but he blamed Nico's bad influence and his own desire to _forget_, just for one night, the ache in his chest for Annabeth. Of course it hadn't worked, and his heart was hurting more than ever, but it had been worth a try. He wouldn't do it again.

Percy gave Hades a thin-lipped smile. "Right. Well. Since you've been expecting me, I guess you know why I'm here…?"

"Why don't you just tell me, Jackson," Hades replied slowly, with a menacing smile that told Percy Hades knew exactly why he was there, and no matter how good a mood the god was in, it was subject to change at any moment and that he'd do well to remember it.

Quickly going over everything in his head, Percy decided to start not with his request, but with a recount of his own alliance with Ares. "I assume you know that my dad—Poseidon—is dead," he started. Hades looked like he was about to speak, but Percy made the bold mood of holding up his hand, and Hades just shrugged and bade him continue. "For a while I was just on my own, moving place to place…I was kind of on the run from Ares. But then I went to see him, since I figured I needed some help if anything was going to get done about this war. Clearly the Great Prophecy is upon us, and it's pretty ominous. I don't want to see Olympus and the gods destroyed, but at the rate things are going that's probably what's going to happen.

"When I went to see Nico, he brought to my attention that the last time the gods were so divided, the Titans were behind it. While that might not be the case this time, I don't think it would be impractical to assume that there's _something_ more complex going on than just a nasty fight between the gods. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Anyway, when I went to see Ares, we made a kind of alliance…and he…adopted me," Percy said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "I don't really know how it works completely, but I've now got some of his traits, and all that. He agrees with me that order on Olympus must be restored, one way or another. Zeus and Athena are not going to back down. From what you said, it seems Annabeth and Thalia are recruiting just like we are, except Ares has the good sense to recognize that even if our side won, there would need to be the same semblance of equality on Olympus as there was before all of this started.

"Zeus, however, and Athena, are looking to rule with absolute power. They think this is their best chance, and they are confident that the rest of the gods will either agree to help them or will be too scared to fight them – it'd be a dictatorship based on fear, and it would not last long. Olympus would be destroyed either way, but Zeus is too blind and power hungry to see it, and it doesn't seem like Athena is even attempting to dissuade him."

Now done with his story, Percy knew this was it; once he asked for Hades' help in the war, he had no hope of getting his father back, at least not without bargaining something else, and he knew he had nothing else to offer. The greater good, or his father… He took a deep breath, steeling himself as he expelled his doubts and fears with the air. "So, Hades," Percy finally said, his voice sounding much stronger and more confident than he actually felt, "I come to you with this: help our side, the _right_ side, and once the war is over, you will take Zeus's place as king of the gods under the condition that you do not abuse the power, and will allow for an equal coexistence between the gods."

The silence that hung in the air was deafening, but Percy forced himself to look Hades in the eye the whole time. He refused to show fear or anything else, for that matter. The more certain and confident he looked, the better chance he had of the god taking him seriously.

"That was quite the speech, Percy," Hades said quietly, eyeing the demi-god with a mixture of respect and mirth. "Certainly much more eloquent than anything my previous two visitors had to say, though I didn't expect it from _you_." Hades gave a short laugh. "Most surprising is that what you say is all correct, in the basic sense, and that you aren't on the same side as…well, you know who I'm talking about. Since you're clearly taking the more _rational_ position in this miserable war…yes, I will help you. That is a condition I can work with. Naturally you, as the once-supposed lightning thief, knew to use my hatred of Zeus as a bargaining chip. Smart boy. It seems you have grown up."

For a moment, Percy could only stand gaping at the god in front of him, not sure he'd heard right. _Yes?_ Hades would help? That had been way, way too easy, and he almost made a face and told Hades to stop fucking with him, but Nico nudged him hard and instead he said, "I, uh, that's great, I mean. Thank you. But, but you don't want anything else in return? That's a enough?"

Hades raised an eyebrow. "Do you have anything more to give?"

Percy froze. He probably shouldn't have said anything, in hindsight, but now he was kind of stuck. That damn sword was his only option now, in case Hades actually wasn't satisfied with the original deal… "Well, Ares told me I could give you this," he said cautiously, and lifted the golden sword from his side, letting the cloth that covered it fall from it to the stone floor. "The sword of Achilles, that's what he told me it was."

The god's eyes narrowed unpromisingly and he stepped off his throne and walked toward Percy, who had to force himself not to bolt at the god's proximity. He held out the sword, and Hades took it, examining it closely.

"Interesting…If I recall correctly, Achilles did not use a _sword_. He used a spear," Hades said softly, still studying the weapon.

_Shit_. Why hadn't he remembered that? He _knew_ it had sounded strange to him, and now he was starting to doubt himself for bringing it along, especially since he figured Ares knew Achilles used a spear, not a sword, as the god of war. Gods, he was stupid, and resisted the urge to smack himself on the head. Had Ares just wanted to make him look thick, or get him in trouble? Or was there some other power that rested with the sword that was meant to bring Hades down? Somehow, Percy didn't think that was the case, so maybe the god merely hadn't known. He comforted himself with the thought that at the very least, the sword wouldn't be a detriment.

"I can tell it's very powerful, though," Hades mused, running his fingers along the blade. "Why don't we ask Achilles himself?" The god flashed a grin.

"Wait," Percy started, then almost flinched at how rude he'd sounded. "I had something else to ask you."

Hades paused and turned to face Percy, both eyebrows raised. "Ask away, but be prepared to pay for whatever more you require."

Percy nodded knowingly. "Yeah, of course." He had to take a deep breath before he continued, and consciously avoided looking at Nico. "First, I had a question… is my dad here? In the Underworld? Since he died, I figured he would be. And if so, is it possible to, I don't know, get him back?"

Hades stared at the demi-god for a long moment, then started to laugh, in a chilling, bone-grating way. His face was a mixture of a smirk and a grimace when he spoke. "I hate your father—and you know it—so you'd need to bargain with something of real worth for _that_ to ever happen. As it is," Hades continued, eyeing Percy closely, "your father is not here. Which means he's not dead. I have absolutely no idea where he is, since clearly he's disappeared, but I can't help you."

Percy was staggered. His father was…not dead…? The problem with that was that he'd _seen_ his father, unmoving and unbreathing, lying in Alcatraz. Ares had admitted that Poseidon was dead, and then the lady who knew Rachel Dare had told him to find Nico if he wanted his father back… All of that was proof, unless, by some miracle, Poseidon had only seemed dead and Ares and everyone else were mistaken. Percy frowned. She'd told him to find _Nico_… Not Hades, but Nico. He'd assumed that meant Hades by association, but now he wasn't so sure. Maybe Nico knew something Hades didn't, but when he'd asked Nico about it, Nico claimed not to know anything, and he'd appeared to be honest and apologetic. Either way, now was not the time to dwell on any of these things, so he painstakingly pushed them out of his mind as best he could and focused on his other request.

"Okay," he conceded, then ran a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends. "While I was with Ares, he was under the impression that the dead could fight with us. He specifically wanted Luke and those in Elysium. Is that…unreasonable, or even possible?" He swallowed once. He had a bad feeling about this. Despite Ares' belief that the sword and the original bargain would be enough, Percy knew it was impossible to ask so much of a god without giving something in return, and he didn't think he had anything else that Hades would want.

Hades gave Percy a twisted smile, and the god's eyes seemed to darken. "That is a peculiar request. No one has ever asked such a thing… But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised when abnormal things come from your mouth, Percy Jackson. Unfortunately for you, there is a price. First of all, Luke would not lead an army of dead, especially not from Elysium. Achilles is their leader, so you would need to convince him, provided we make this deal. I do not believe he'd need much convincing—he has a thirst for battle to rival Ares'. You, then, would need to buy the use of Achilles. With him, you would acquire the rest, but in return for _his_ soul, you must trade a living soul." Hades' smile grew wider, and his eyes appeared a little insane. "Anyone you have in mind?"

Of course. _Of course_ that was the cost, and he should have known it. Taking a deep breath, Percy closed his eyes, adamantly refusing to look at Nico, who he knew was staring at him. A line from the prophecy swam across his mind… _An oath to keep with a final breath_… He would never sacrifice anyone else's soul for such a thing. A heavy, numb dread slowly spread through his body, rooting him where he stood, and his jaw clenched involuntarily. The soul would have to be his own.

And immediately, he thought of Annabeth.

Despite their current, less-than-friendly situation, he'd retained a seriously unreasonable amount of hope for the two of them because he'd never been one to give up, and there was a certain magnetism that drew them together, always. It hadn't gone away, and he knew she felt it as strongly as he did. He had seen her at her best, and her worst, and everything in between, and when it came down to it, he would give anything for her… except the world. He had chosen his side in this war, she had chosen hers, and he was the only one who could do this…

Visions of a life in which he and Annabeth were married swirled before him… There was their house, white and large with a porch all the way around, with the pond in front that eventually emptied out into the shores of South Carolina… There were their children, some with gray eyes and some with green, all smart and brave and perfect… He dug his blunt nails into his palms, focusing on the pain to force the images out of his head. It would do him no good to hope for impossibilities. Indifferent as to whether Hades and Nico were watching him he sank into a crouch and ran his hands over his face.

Twice now, within the hour, he'd had to make a choice between himself and his own goals, and the good of the world. It would be so easy to say no, to walk away… but he couldn't do it. He was in too deep now, and he felt he had an obligation to finish what he'd started and guarantee things turned out the right way. His heart clenched, but he refused to outwardly show any of his distress. Suddenly he had a time limit, and every breath was precious. He forced himself to breathe deeply, evenly, and kept the fear at bay.

Standing slowly, he opened his eyes and faced Hades. When he spoke, his voice was low, quieter than he'd intended. "If I were to trade my soul… how long would I have? I mean—" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Could I just…stay till the end of the war?"

For a long moment that seemed like an eternity, Hades was silent. The god was, in fact, lost in thought. Here was a demi-god he'd thought had long-since reached the capacity of his mental and physical abilities, but there he stood, surprising Hades with his bravery and selflessness with a shocking amount of tact. Hades rubbed his jaw, studying Percy Jackson closely. The boy was willing to sacrifice his own soul to ensure an outcome he liked for the war. Hades might have called him reckless and idiotic if not for the fact he now knew the demi-god was much more intelligent than that. Clearly, Percy thought it was worth it. He hadn't come across a demi-god like this in centuries, if ever.

Nico looked about to protest, but one hard look from Percy kept him quiet.

Hades' smile was gone when he spoke, and his words were short, as though he already regretted saying them. "Yes. The minute the war is over, you would return to the Underworld with me as a soul. You would stand before the three judges of the dead just like anyone else, and there your fate would be decided. We have a deal." He extended his hand. "You must swear upon the River Styx, of course."

Percy swallowed the last of his doubts and nodded once. "I swear upon the River Styx to surrender my soul to you, Hades, god of the dead, come the end of the war." He paused, clenching his jaw as the weight of what he'd just said nearly staggered him. "And you…?"

"I swear upon the River Styx," Hades said slowly, "to provide an army of dead in exchange for Percy Jackson's soul."


End file.
